You know Pearl be ascending up to the moon, right? We some wolves, we be howling out in the moonlight All these records, we taking them to the tomb Even if you bury us, you know we still gon' bloom You know Pearl be ascending up to the moon, right? We some wolves, we be howling out in the moonlight All these records, we taking them to the tomb Even if you bury us, you know we still gon' bloom What's the deal, ay? Who is this bloody crucifix in a Buddhist stick? Dirty kicks bumping dirty Diana in ludicrous hits A lick, hollers that it's brick, hobbles in a ditch Then hides the hollow tips up in a thicket ***, listens to some clips, decides it's time to be grinding But never was a crip and doesn't know where to find him Aging like fine wine, an agent of time rhymes Pages of high signs, courageous and bright Mind that engages in 69 but erupted in 96 Arranges like 60 dons but corrupted him with his tricks Silly rabbit with a habit of nuptial commits Scamming him like Joanne with a bannet, yo, what a dick Take a walk in his shoes, this nigga might be the Grinch Rhyming like Dr. Seuss plus a hypodermic syringe Infringing on borderlines with a borderline intellect With a piccadilly persona politically incorrect What's the deal, ay? You know Pearl be ascending up to the moon, right? We some wolves, we be howling out in the moonlight All these records, we taking them to the tomb Even if you bury us, you know we still gon' bloom You know Pearl be ascending up to the moon, right? We some wolves, we be howling out in the moonlight All these records, we taking them to the tomb Even if you bury us, you know we still gon' bloom What's the deal, ay? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 I need someone to check if I am still alive Cause I've been in the dirt Constant fear of racial profiling and getting murked Leave of absence for leaving me absent Adamant about trafficking my soul to the masses Or maybe tried my spirit from molasses See this is the story of a young black man Six inches deep in a system that pimps his ass for the green Take a month for the team, regressing his self-esteem Professing that he's supreme, but all they see is unclean Stop! I look up to God for guidance Asking please stop the violence, I'm on autopilot I listened, I had a revelation He said, wait revelations, start a revolution I feel like Turner, I feel like Newton I feel like Kenyatta, nigga I feel like Bambada, wanna pop me like pinata But now I'm the shatta My man, I'm the head rocker Who stay introspective Fire brimstone, punt, oh no, be disrespecting And y'all still ain't get the message That's why my mama stayed over protective Cause she don't want her little boy corrupted by all the noise, man