domination under my mask of diction
i hit up trinity hoping she'd lead me to morpheus
trapped in a cyclical vortex tunnel
tainted by the shadiest detroit vanilla flavor
not escapes, yet paths in the race
my slum village be my only sanctuary
from the paste
the flavor kicks in with the sweetness
running for that goal like its' personification
named walter payton
it's t3, elzhi, and baatin going for the gusto
C me B4 you drop your next posse cut flow...