-It's been 2 months since I wrote the other two versions-
Key Instinct
Verse 3/3
'The culmination'
Red Lable, Black Lable; I keep my bottles on the table.
Cables tapped tell me fables.
Is the truth forsaken like bacon to Jews?
I'm a pagan of grooves, no relation to lose,
so when the COPs drop I'm makin moves.
This isn't my day, it wasn't my week, it's not what I planned.
Yea, I got a palm full of empty hands.
A miracle of God or a fault of man?
Let the flowin sands of time collide wit these fuckin rhymes of mine.
I cried like a bitch last night,
I can't remember the last time I told my Mama to hold me tightly.
I'm finally frightened, my own mind's tryna fight me,
and I ain't givin up, but shit, maybe I might be.
So come on y'all, I ain't waitin for some day,
cause one day I'ma be a front page story on Sunday.
When the Monday Mass comes, there goes the fun days.
My burdens gonna weigh jus as much as the Nuns pray.
Now, where do we turn when an old dog's done?
You hear some grown men cry and God loses a son.
An empty chest cavity where my heart goes, or once owned.
Stolen from a ho? Haha, you hit a funny bone, so here we go.
We bandits, gotta couple grand quick,
couldn't handle it, now I'm under bridges writin wit a candle lit.
Verse 2/3
'The Beginnin'
I'm too old for ghost stories, the man before me ignores me
I guess I'm too boring. He shoulda left my Moms a slut,
who woulda knew he bust a nut?
God had plans for me so I guess he had them fuck.
Time swings the elder rotation, the game changes faces,
not takin blame for them funny faces.
I walk untill my shoes talk went from 4'9 to 5'10
and God damn, over night, locked my sights in.
Got my socks filled wit sniffed Hell, pants buldgin from an O like I'm hung well, can the boys tell? I collect my profits and run, ina cell
I ain't tryna forget the shine of the Sun. Like readin brail
I guide my lines wit my mind and not my eyes.
Yea your same God guides me through crime, oh, you suprised?
Gotta suddle love to double money comin,
double flash backs when double back runnin.
Who can sense when the storms comin? Yea, the storms comin.
Verse1/3
'The Conscience'
I'm at the end of my wits, not a friend of my wrists,
is this as good as it gets? It's on the fritz if I slip up.
I've seen the sun rise before, it ain't no different
than yesterday's dim glisten, yea, they hear me but are they listenin? Wisdom is lost in an instant, poof, you're reminiscin,
never go 99 sure on a mission. Too paranoid, ill visioned,
how many times I gotta quit before I admit addiction?
Caught between the cons and the kissin. Deceit isn't meant to be evident, once owned what's known can unfold to contridictions.
Beware of the diction, ficticious snitches after your wishes.
Fuck what the pich is, I hear some whisperin,
I grip my britches, and I'm over the fences.
Catch me mother fucker, while I'm sensless,
I'm grown enough to know the consequenes. The dog hunt commences.