[Instrumental Intro: 4-bar loop] [Sampled Hook] [Vocals: Female ONLY, Pop autotune, STRICTLY NO MALE VOCALS, NO ADLIBS] you reap what you sow you reap what you sow you reap what you sow you reap what you sow [End Hook] [Background Vocals: Female pop autotune repeating "you reap what you sow"] [Beat Drops] [Verse 1: Strict Timing] [Vocals: LOUD, PROJECTED, Gritty male rapper, raspy tone, heavy lisp, speech imperfection ONLY, STRICTLY NO SINGING, NO MELODY] [Delivery: Rhythmic dissonance, off-beat cadence, aggressive stops, jagged flow] the cocoa plant seed is loved plant it in the mountain dirt breathing the thin air it does matter where some say the most robust is columbia eighteen months of heavy rain before we even care then we start rumbling out in the jungle mist operating off the grid shid, this is how agriculture becomes a business motherfucking seventy sharp swords working with the cartel we will [jarring syncopation] stomp the leaves in the tarp pit mix the gray dust and the lime ourselves pour the heavy diesel let it soak over time thinking of the supply shelves connecting with the workers they respect us wont jerk us built with Lupe took his son to the circus strip the green make a toxic soup and rob the mountain blind of its resources for the time being with haste [staccato burst] skim the top pull the work right out of the paste cook it under heat lamps with zero seconds to waste strict timing awaits the delivery wearing gloves and masks not believing the sight dont confuse this process with the other one this plant also where chocolate comes from delivering humans with delight watch the chemicals bind turn the mud to white powder and gradient white [broken meter] throw it in the hydraulic press and clamp it down tight now we need armed security it is now a viable product in sight trapsorted in carts and nude women to get the stamp the bird on the brick wrap the package in white take a green leaf turn it to a solid kilo block cross the border logistics to flood the city dock [polyrhythmic flow] understand the route from the soil to the concrete seventy sharp swords serving this cold shit to the street [rushed finish] no mystery god needed we first hand in the operational chain maximize the profit while we manufacture factures and pain
