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[Intro: Adam George Baldwin]
Low death has reared himself a throne in a strange city
Lying alone far down within the dim west
Where the good and the bad
And the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest

[Verse: Sid]
I'm not really sure what's going on
Spirits hover above me, pushing me to a mission
While I'm submissive to a cause
It's the Wolverine status
When I show you my claws
I got the werewolf habits when I show you my paws
Pick the pace back up when the twelve clock struck
And your heart rate stuck
It's a hard stop, and my crew's the body droppers
Apocalypse Now shit, yeah, we Dennis Hoppers
MDMA, ninety-five days, punk rocker at the rave
Pill poppers, I remember I was stuck in a daze
Had several lovers, ten highs [?]
High tolerance compared to others
Always hanging out with the brothers
Watch your heartbeat just explode out your neck
Carry on conversation though I don't what we said
How many chemicals can one boy fit into his head?
How many days can I stay up before I end up dead?
How many houses do I wake up in before I'm taken on some lead?
45, money, and drugs, how's that for my street cred?
My home wasn't broken, my parents didn't kick my ass
Just born with an evil streak that tries to catch up from my past
Call me Doc Holliday while I'm sipping on some [?]
I'm your Huckleberry when I'm puffing on some ganja choke
Making beats, making raps
Soaking in the west coast
Taking names, kicking ass
Illin's what I do the most
Spillin' 'till I reach the top
What more can I say?
Productive element of hip hop
Don't forget the pray n' spray
Keep the B-boys dancing and the MCs out of graves
Keep the beatbox jamming, DJ's digging in the grates
[?], get up, it's not too late
Please don't let this be the final track that I ever make
The scene will eat and chew you up, spit you back into the crowd
Tune out all the nonsense, play the music, make it loud