(velour six… drop the needle) the stylus drops like a gavel in high court pharmaceutical schemes, life is far too short i balance the ledger, dodging legal proceedings while the rhythm of the block keeps soul bleeding i wear the crown of thorns made of wire pushing the ambition through the metropolitan fire the weight of the veteran sits heavy on chest velvet in the veins, put the paranoia to rest the scratch on the record is a scar on skin confessions in the booth for every original sin i keep the circle small, avoiding the betrayal living by the code till the breath starts to fail my movement is a symphony of grit and grace erasing every trace of the runner in the race the gospel of the hustle, the theology of wax charging up the tax while the needle makes tracks the law of the silence is the only way out moving through the alleyways, erasing the doubt health is the wealth when the environment is toxic keeping the mindset sharp and the flow chaotic i am the authority, the survivor of the game burning through the industry, leaving only the flame (the truth is in the groove) (feel the velvet) the needle is the witness for the chosen few (the scratch speaks the word) (velvet turntable funk) (the sermon is complete)
