Dark Knights - Rapsody

Dark nights been cold like night veins

Serve niggas chills, I’m I’ll like Mike Caine

Express and I stress the best, I’m insane

To these bitches like Miranda, I’m lyrically Bruce Wayne

Pain I felt it and belted it out in sorrow

Broke days, way too embarrassed to ask to borrow

A dollar for a quarter a gallon of gas tomorrow

Struggles by the car load had me lower than Carlos

Borders we sorta ignore 'em like fuck a lock yo

No plan drawn still stone cold, a Picasso

Nothing quite impossible, something similar to Pac though

Young poet, we know it, sow it so it’ll grow blow

Where the wind take me, money’ll never make me

No matter where I go, so money’ll never break me

Though I been broke like pieces of soap pasted

To cleanse my soul bands like grams we raising

Reaching for better, it’s whatever I’m Kevin Bacon

X men out that want none a part of my making why

Bane ain’t a match for this emcee

And Dark Knight bat wings need a M3

All y’all drool for Ra’s al Ghul protégé

I’ve been cold as Jay on «3 Kings"nigga get schooled

I am the, 5'3"Morgan free-flow genius

Underground killer like Bane whole team is

They couldn’t cop me now they stuck underneath me

I took a leap of faith and I climbed up easy

Rap-so-deezy and Eric Jones, I Gotham City

I save ya all from the bad rappers in ya city

And let you take a couple jewels like the cat lady

Dark Knights rise again Jamla we back baby

Yea

I say Dark Knights rise again Jamla we back baby

It’s so quick to flip and crown a next king

Trip like crips do the blues make us swing

Low as the flow where chariots rider wings?

I decoded the message arrested by modern bling

lives that never use knives to bring

Themselves up a notch only took a stab at a dream

Coliseums, used to pray to him, the Elohim

Witnessed the door to door and I guarded it like Hakeem

The Idi Amin of all these idiots mean I know

Toe to toe go with the best that they throw in the ring seen

Lot of despair, pair me with none of them things, two left

Feets only dance to the beats with B’s we rep

Honesty, my history Cherokee and it’s African

Deep blue cinnamon, every bit of the black in him

Embrace heritage, capitalize like acronyms

We higher seed, no need to deplete it like the Vatican

And Benedict ourself, deplenish all our wealth

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself

Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself…

Ain’t rocked a 9th beat in a minute

I ain’t even with niggas

You slight breeze, I’m wife beaters in winter

I’m a product of Reaganomics where the law is a greater problem

Where the niggas is spraying something and they got 'em

Word to Robin, that’s Gotham

That was fiction but I’m talking about the district

Where business is booming for bird flippers and morticians

And I understand the plight of Bane

Except we using other drugs just to fight the pain

It’s coming apart, I’m hoping to God you niggas ain’t playing

Cause I’m more Patrick Bateman and y’all Bruce Wayne

And I do my thing really

Folarin spit pepper, young veteran

You niggas lack season like a torn ACL-a

Level headed, I put this with in yo lady belly

And I bet my digits 'bout as thick as Fat Belly Bella

I’m like the new fella meets (Goodfella)

Good guy turned heel do the crude business

Manute length is a list of niggas that may envy

But I eat danger for lunch, breakfast, and plate empty

And I leave the place with some choice ladies to fellate with me

And I pull hoes like cellos strings, nigga hear my symphony

Of the Opus Mr. Holland ain’t got nothing on

Hollerin' at these hollow heads, we both shallow but I am raw

Fly as fuck, who the fuck is y’all to compare me to them peoples

Niggas questioning they outfit like Jim Carrey on the sequel, get me