Scoundrels

The Reavers (ft. Keith Masters) - “Scoundrels”
[Produced by Bond (AKA 007)]

[Verse 1: Keith Masters]
Iron-clad niggas in monkey suits
Gorillas lean into that chinchilla
I just bust a lot. I’m no killer
Nobody keeps it realer than going
To the wake. Meet the Parents like Ben Stiller
He’s still a dirty, rotten scoundrel
Bitch that split and broke off with a pound-full
Now Jesus talks, Jesus walks
Past that body outlined in chalk
Niggas knew how it went down
But they... (Shhh) don’t make a sound
It’s all hush, especially the neighborhood lush
Made the poker face like he had a royal flush
Here, the drug addicts more clever than insane and
Bodybuilders extract pleasure out of pain
He must plan his next step wisely
To become Mr. Big like won Heisy
Elders say he needs release or just belief
Backwoodz fibers dipped in keef
Baked at the funeral parlor, approached the altar
With a speech and he bombed like Pearl Harbor
Caught up with the father, deacon, or the pastor
He had bought a one-way ticket to Disasters-
-ville. Type twisted like a damn drill
Father sensed he had a passion to kill. Now
Many say, “Fuck the past,” but when
The past comes back, you’re getting fucked in the ass
Like, “Welcome to Alcatraz, motherfucker. Don’t spaz”
Your first time ain’t your last. The system’s top
Sodomized, automized product. Out of lies
Out of line at Big Rodney’s Parlor. It’s like, “Aww shucks”
I’m stuck and dusty—fuck
Even if I make it out, my life’ll never be the same
Y’all know the game wants CB scarlet
Remember way back like, um, Whatchamacallit?
Life’s like bubblegum, candy bars
Coca Cola, VGs, and some basketball trading cards
Now I’m paranoid, the on-guard
‘Cause life is so goddamn hard

[Hook: Keith Masters]
Life is so goddamn hard
It’s a miracle I made it this goddamn far
Life is so goddamn... huh
It’s a miracle I made it this... far
Life is so god... uh
It’s a miracle I made it... (Uh, uh, uh) this... (Uh, uh)
Life is so goddamn... huh
It’s a... that I... this (Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)

[Verse 2: Keith Masters]
Yeah
Maybe y’all snap like Ziggy, pop double-G [?]
Future’s bleak ‘cause I let them boys leak
Fucker, get a visit in the clink every other week
The symphony of revenge is so bittersweet
Better yet, in these streets, many feats, many beats
Many creep, many weep, many don’t sleep, uh
Playing God, getting in too deep
Just failed to see the what lied beneath
And now you’re gritting your teeth
It’s true revelations
True revolutions
Trialing and debating