Dark times. Troubled minds. Sickness in the thoughts and in the clips, it's... insane. They want us trippin', slippin' into a black pool of death. Elevate the times, make them moments to be cherished and by the soul, instead of slime, from New York City, when I shine. New York's gritty, and designed, in dope ways, for your rhymes, to be stretched and manipulated from the divine.
We'll get through these times, together. We're being boxed out, breached, neglected and rejected. But help is on it's way. Never let failing people weaken your heart. Stay strong. Hustle like a lion in the light, and keep your heart strong, like some iron in the night. Profusely stabbed and cut up, busted til we erupted. Kingdom. A palace is in the making. Jewels and gems, on the walls. Blue marble floors, and gold plates, on the doors. They shouldn't have tried to annihilate a lion. They shouldn't have wanted us, to be dyin'. Nostalgic memories... of Zion.