My Chain Dangles

[Intro: Stelf Index]
Uh huh. Stronghold. Wiz. “My Chain Dangles”

[Verse 1: Wiz]
Ayyo, my chain dangles
I walk the Earth with a slain angel
This game’s fatal
Nearly get caught up, but remain stable
Snakes surround me
Wiz with adrenaline to face an army, study ways of Gandhi
And Genghis Khan to be made the don
Won’t stop ‘til this game is won
MVP numbers—like it or not
I’m here to do what Mike did a lot
Dominate (Go out of state)
Still dominate (When out of shape)
Still dominate (Retire from the game, come back)
And still dominate
When people gotta hate, fuck ‘em all
I walk through dirty Babylon with Bible’s cross
Every idol falls
Soon be crushing my idols—clash of the titans
Take they cash and they diamonds and relax on the islands
Wiz the last of the writers
So show love
The hand that holds the mic got me a gold glove
For all thugs and bitches. I love this business
Tryna see my money go up a thousand digits

[Verse 2: Stelf Index]
Perfect, powerful at our laziest
What you say don’t mean shit like swearing in an atheist
Nothing to fear. Sick mental. Get off my genitals
I’ll replace your dental with a fucking forced rental
Knuckle to your tongue, jab you with a jagged object
No objections—Stronghold number one prospect
In this project we call existence
Stay your distance
Or helping you meet your exit will be my goal
You go cold

[Verse 3: Wiz]
Mind, body, and soul, wisdom, knowledge
Give me a scroll and a fist of dollars
So I can teach the scholars
Reach the foulest, golden gates
My only face success under the holy cape
Writing tales so you can all relate
The streets made us
From corner gambling spots, we hoped to reach Vegas to reach places
Costa Rican vacations
Clear skies like I’m speaking to angels
Then keeping the answers of life and death
I plan to live life ‘til no life is left
Spread the skies, Stronghold ‘til the day I die
I lay at night
Conversations with God ‘bout to make it right
A wise man told me, gave me a great advice
To survive the game like the [lake upright?]
You Wiz now. No more battles, no more freestyles [from frozen/composing?] scriptures
From phony hood rats to orgies with foreign bitches
I yell, “Stronghold!” as I came on her chest
Angels of deaths opposition—still, no angers was left
Major success—king’s life, blood boil
Half human, half gargoyle, make the spot boil
We soldiers
Stripes on our shoulders, only Christ can control us
Teach us new shit life never told us
Ready for war—.44s and mics in our holsters