Aztec Blue - Meyhem Lauren, Buckwild, Hologram

Love my city to death and that’s my word

We used to get dressed fresh and politic right on the curb

Not worried bout tomorrow, just thinking bout the moment

Used to catch tags on the building now I think I want to own it

It was simple back then, we should’ve treasured it

Now every thought I have’s precise, I got to measure it

So I place ideas on the Tanita then I read it and it says that I should still

carry my heater, damn

I was really hoping for a different answer

Fighting for peace like wheatgrass can fight cancer

Knowledge is worthless if you don’t apply it

Buy it then fly it, fuck a break, I’ll never be retired

Inspired by silver linings that clouds cover

Queens locals drop vocals, crowds smother

That’s my new life, I worked for it though

Still got a way to go

Known for rocking crazy low, and blow getting fellatio

Liquefying currency, making my paper flow

Shit, we like money out the faucet

Open like the doors on my whip when pigs toss it

I don’t sweat that, look ahead, everything’s golden

I’m here living, could’ve suffocated in the Trojan

Now I’m at the district with my niggas getting frozen

Eating cause I’m fly fam, rocking this yarn pays

People act wild but they farm raised, we different

Played these streets for a long time, I’ve seen a lot

Another day, another dollar, so we scheming plots

You can show someone the world, they only see the block

Thoughts become reality, thankful I dream a lot

Put words together, that can build bridges

We tryna grow old and plant seeds and fly wizards

It’s all about your energy, believe in yourself

One love to real niggas worldwide, I wish em wealth

I made grants on the hill in my Grant Hills

The fiends keep moving while I stand still

This was before I got tatted, or formed a habit

Nowadays I’m like the addict who acts erratic

With the base in the attic, I’m eating rabbit

On some Bob Digi shit, RZA to abbot

Got to love it, got to have it, I’m Illmatic

My niggas on the run eating, we ain’t sleeping

Running through Queens like the F train with my left brain

Artistic, sadistic

Saying happy Kwanza on Christmas to misfits

Leather boots, leather jacket, my bottom is soft

I hit the weed hard like Ruslan Provodnikov

And I been doing this awhile but I’ll probably cough

The only hashtag’s the price of the hash fag

I sell your mother a bad bag

And then I skate out to Baghdad