See my turn out once more, shuffle cards, dealt scores,
hustle hard, felt boras, concrete jail floors,
why ask how I sharpened the pen,
when the brain stays slicker than an Aston Martin,
see my chronicles are critically acclaimed,
from the crypts of the slums to the hearses arranged,
I'm pursing the game, no strings attached,
no media I'm easily a ghost to track, this is culture rap,
fuck about see you vultures capped,
cop nothing material I broke the trap,
but the linen still fits though, its tailor made,
and my bars are razor blades,
I been A for days, put the one right beside it, status saved,
frauds faker than a fable made,
I'm the ghost of the boards, put your toast up and know,
every time I drop a verse I keep the board afloat.