[Verse 1 — 70 militant] Spotted an emcee doing street cosplay, Crop-top, rainbow bag, and a polka-dot beret. Crew trailing in thigh-highs, shorts cut from sweatpants grey, Wearing shirts that said "Tuesday" even though today was Wednesday. Just a late-night walk to get the extra Backwoods that my brother needed, A testament to everything wrong with the hood, but I proceeded. Strides unbroken, till an unhoused man asked for a token, Passed a cig, got a stale face, ice-cold, unspoken. Handed him a twenty—thought it was a single when I tossed it, His whole persona turned elated, grabbed a pipe and bossed it. Immediately sparked the flame and started smoking work, Then that flamboyant entourage circled back with a smirk. Offering dubs, two-for-fives, and a fifty to the fiend, I issued a cease and desist while I surveyed the scene. Eye-signal gesturing, telling them to be out, But the followers just stared at me, twisting fingers for clout. See, this is why the 70 crew stays resting by the skin, One flash of the burner, watch the scattering begin. Sorta turned into Tina Turner, rolling down the river wide, Exit off the boulevard, I’m about to turn to Ike inside. That's when the fiend turns around, face tweaking for the hard, Says, "You got another thirty?" trying to get the fifty card. My patience left me instantly, this hood shit is too shifty, Two scantily clad women pacing, pacing, city-gritty. One in red, one lavender, working on the street, Asked me what I had planned on my calendar tonight’s heat. Self-aware nightwalkers bathing in the neon light glare, While the rapper crew is fighting in the background, grabbing hair. The fiend begging for forgiveness, I told him, "No forgiveness, No forgiveness"—heart rigid in the sickness. No forgiveness, no forgiveness, pressure in my grip, Squeezing that, squeezing that, squeezing that on the hip. [Verse 2 — RJ STILT-SKIN] Saw 70 on the boulevard, Moving through the rain. Stilt talk posted on the sidewalk, Hoping someone knew my name. Asked him for a token, Passed a cigarette my way. Gave me that stale face, Like he might've walked away. Then he reached inside his pocket, Tossed a twenty in my hand. Thought it was a single, Till I looked and understood. Demeanor turned elated, Grabbed the pipe and sparked it. Hit the flame. Started smoking work. Then that flamboyant entourage, Came circling with a smirk. Offering dubs, two-for-fives, And a fifty to the fiend. I watched while 70 surveyed the scene. Eye-signal telling them to leave. But they kept twisting fingers then… I could feel the skin! Sharp swords it’s the heavenly ones, Rj and 70, Deadly darts at the ready and steadily slung, Allegedly we brung to many raps and tracks that..Me n him snapped It’s a fact Stat the stilt spins And We Watched the scattering begin. 70 rolled away. He disappeared Ayo I grinned, Was Rj but stilt pulled me after him. [Chorus] [Verse 3 — RJ STILT-SKIN] Ayo, it’s the demon locked in stilt skin speaking Caught him turning rims down the block, Face tweaking for the hard. Said you got another thirty? Trying to get the fifty card. That twenty had me wanting more, I couldn't let it go. Turned around and followed him, Down the block, slow. Two women in the neon, One in red, one lavender. Working underneath the lights, Asking what I had planned. While the rapper crew fought, Fiend begging for forgiveness, But 70 wanted no more. [Chorus] No forgiveness, no forgiveness. Still I'm reaching for the score. That's why RJ Stiltskin still spins, And keeps sharp swords. I came for what I needed, Got a taste and played my part.
