Lyrics
I’m the seventh sinner, I’m why you feel heat in December
I’m a lyric vendor, I’m your dead family members
Not a five percenter, just created my own foundation
I’m a deep conversation in between God and Satan
I’m your nerves when you shaking forewarning you of the pain
I’m the dark clouds in the distance that you see before the rain
I’m your father when he beat you as a child wilding out
I’m the preacher in the cathedral with his dick in a nun’s mouth
I’m the evil that’s inside you like blood swimming through your heart
I’m death, torture, and greed, disease and demonic thoughts
Ironic marks leaver, reminder of stigmata
Your palms, head, and feet will bleed to reach the father
I’m bad karma that always comes around like a baby momma
I’m what you facing, drama, I murder the Dalai Lama
I’m the lonely walker, the South Carolina stalker
I’m a demon beast snatching the innocence from your daughter, Lhus
Chorus: Who are you? (Qualm) Where do you come from? (Captol City streets)
Who are you? You could be the one
I’m the inner conflict brought on by a change of conscience
A lack of confidence showing true colours that are pompous
Sometimes I’m monstrous, other times I’m often calmed quick
Don’t be alarmed kid cause you stepping up with your conference
I’m back to raw shit, watch the dirt swallow your coffin
Where my bomb sit is right under your fortress
Enemy quarters, in my hand along with a sword is
The way they taught us, street teachers that up-brought us
I stay lawless unless it’s physics and natural course
Inhibiting passing the corners at exact coordinates
In the path I trek in search for the math
I quest the earth on a quest for questions birth
Nothing less than a lesson learned
I’m the breath of curse, seven sins and seven worse
The sediment in the dirt ingesting the blood from murder
The sound of cracking bones, heartbeats from the facts are shown
The sound of blasting chrome to the back of your own dome, Qualm
Who are you? (Knowledge) Where do you come from? (Parts unknown)
Who are you? You could be the one
I step in the spot blazing the wood
I walk through the hood up to no good
Seen the struggle through my mother’s eyes, did what I could
To survive the circumstances sometimes turned to a crook
And didn’t learn my craft and trade in no schoolbook
Burning the math the way we grew up
Slinging the lab, hustle a few bucks
Lick off, sting with the jab, right hook from the Ruger
Southern? brew in the cooler
? get fogged out holding the hookah
Don’t manoeuvre, slap intruders and foolers
Yeah we fighting on the school bus
Talk about your momma, who what?
It was all slap boxing till somebody got their lip bust
We was kids then, now we grown up
Watch the time of our life flash before our eyes, Knowledge
Who are you? Where do you come from?
Who are you? You could be the one