Hustle on, hustle on, as I put my hood on.
Nocturnal, my senses, and the moon is my sun.
What street am I from? What hood do I run?
I'm global like darkness, like the stars that I spawned.
Like the stars that are gone, I still shine in the night.
From zero to absolute, too low for Fahrenheit.
So cold, so cold, like ice of legacy, I'm bright.
Untold my world, and so my story is the light.
Streetlights are my runways, and so I take off.
Skylines are my highways, and so I spin off.
Spin off, like old vinyl, as I cut through the past.
Born from concrete and cut by the glass.
I'm fractured reflection of greatness, and I'm not impressed
by flashing ovations of madness, 'cause street was my class.
'cause beat is my quest, and rhymes are my test.
And so I grind out these ciphers without a rest.
As runner or stunner, my stamina won her,
I dine her, I grind her, but never I bind her.
I love lady victory, there's nobody finer.
She smiled upon me and made me much wiser.
She dialed sun on me and made me realize it.
Success is not what you take, not what you possess.
It's how you progress through tests that you pass.
And I don't relapse on the days of collapse.
But I do attest. There's wager in nature.
Still, I don't regress. There's failure in hatred.
I live on a fate street. Of gory, my town.
Of glory, my sound. I might be exiled,
but I wear the crown, and I break the ground.
I twist up the meanings that never were found.
I bring tracks to breathing, so they can astound.
My swag, universal but dead to this town."