Fruits of Wisdom (feat. Pro Dillinger)

We species, human-being species

We call 'em human species, ****, we out

We unique, man, and I'm tellin' the truth

They talkin' 'bout, they gon' try to, uh, save all these motherfuckin' albums that uhm, they, they, they ain't out

They, they ain't save much

We can't even save us

Yeah, yeah, yeah, y'all **** know what it is, man (Bow), watch out, man, get the fuck out the way, ****

It's real **** poppin' out (Stop fuckin' playin' with me and my ****, bro)

Try to step in that divine light (Let that season, ****, **** is food out here)

Watchin' the artwork, listenin' to the beat selections (Big One Nine)

We not stupid, ****, we know what's up out here (It's-it's-it's-it's The Umbrella, bitch)

It's scary out here

It's spooky in my hood, it ain't no peace, God

Just traumatized gangsters with deep scars

And little **** runnin' 'round like retards (These **** ain't the god)

The Devil callin' **** in my regards

They say we need paper, but we need arms to reach up

I've been takin' vacations just to recharge

Y'all Pop-Tarts is sweethearts

I'm Wolverine, my body full of rebar, it's me, y'all

My friend got murderd over a street brawl (Rest in Piece, Fire)

But in the streets, we ain't callin' fouls, we playin' street ball then beast-talk

I know some criminals, some blue racks, and some beatoffs

Some **** screamin' "Blast", some **** C-Walk

My ear to the ground because the streets talk (I hear)

You listenin', it's all a bad dream, so wipe the sleep off, it's sickenin'

I don't trust a bitch, I'd rather beat off (I don't trust a bitch)

Lookin' like a lick, I ain't that **** you can eat off, so be gone (Get outta here)

Umbrella not them **** you can sleep on

I always got my brothers I can lean on

The best to touch a mic when the beat on

I stay best-strapped, bulletproof vest, cookie crack

Shooters with TECs, need baguettes and shoes on the Lex' (Diamond)

Blow loot, rockin' Gucci slippers in the winter like they snow boots

She thought I had a bag back in '02

Joe Cool, the Adidas DBZ joints, the Goku's

Your whole style tofu, I'm Taka Michinoku

New-school rap lords that sport Gucci boat shoes and hustle

We talk real subtle when we approach you

Coast through Macy's like I'm racin' a horse back

Paint the pores black, polo sport hat, can't afford that

That's figure-four rap, torch a rat

I'll fuck up your whole neck and back like Kaya, messiah

Higher power, tower of light, my firepower like Bowser

Hella nice, yo, you kinda polite

You type coward, any hour at night, I could strike

Kick math, this the flower of life, get it right, ****

I don't want nothin' from you but for you to leave this room and know what you want

What do you want in your marriage?

What do you want with your son and your daughter, what do you want in your health?

What do you want financially, like

How much money do you want to make a year?

When do you want to drive? How do you wanna live?

Stop just wakin' up like a accident, what do you want?

And then once you find out what you want, spend the rest of your natural life wakin' up and doing that