The Gusto

[Verse 1: Apathy]

An outlaw dressed in black where the tumbleweeds and dust blow

Cut throats who cut blow and men of steel rust slow

U.F.O.'s float in the desert like smoke

Mothership, microchips get injected in my throat

All off the books, taxes implemented by the fascists

Got me lighting books of matches, burning cities down to ashes

'Cause I ain't one for starving, they don't realize what they starting

I be carving Satan stars into they daughters for a carton

Of some cancer sticks steal Masonic manuscripts

Study lies and camera tricks shoot until the hammer clicks

Used to dance to Hammer's shit now I can barely handle shit

Writing with the candle lit in concentration camps I sit

Where we burning dollar bills 'cause the heats more valuable

And whoever got the water and guns is the most powerful

They huff glue and puff 'dro sell my soul? Fuck no

The aftermath after cash, Ap's out for the gusto

[Hook: Roc Marciano]

Flier than ever, fry vanilla

Push 5's and better, cut pies like sellers

Tuck nines and side levers with side betters

Grind for letters, fuck trying to drive lemons

Keep at least five in the denim it's a must though

Just know my G, I'm going for the gusto

Yeah, I'm going for the gusto

Just know my G, I'm going for the gusto

[Verse 2: Alchemist]

Ayo I scribe fly sentences, admire my businesses

Picture it, I'm twisting up sticks like black licorice

For cremation

Brick layer, lay the foundation

Cut without pasting, chef without the apron

Rappers come out their face we about face 'em

Cold case 'em, will need a blood hound to trace 'em

Push 'em off the planet, outer space 'em

Get it, show you how to lace 'em real loose like Timberland boots

Bigger than that man from Syracuse, verbal abuse

I'm on the loose

Bring all the troops, drink all the juice

Burn a bumbaclot drumstick, fuck a turncoat that jump ship

I'm a legendary rapper, thunder clapper drum smith

The rebel chemist, fresher than a bed of lettuce

Paper chasing go where the bread is

Never take a shit where my head is

But trust on criminals

Spray paint my name on the walls with the Rusto

I'm out for the motherfucking gusto

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Evidence]

I'm a standout kid

I ain't scared to blow but won't go pop

And I don't sink to rhythms, I just stand on top

Yeah, work ethic up, soon I'm standing on plots

Who would've thought I went from futons and cots

To California Kings with a queen from Watts

See I always had bigger dreams than Koch

I always had to pull strings he's a loser

Fuck his little lines used up

I've been merchant dancing with the devil under pale moons

And feeling like it's braille on the wall I put a nail through

Feel it in the air so I never get compared to

Feeling like I'm dealing out a million and ain't scared to

Who doesn't feel Phil Collins?

Who is the new jack who ain't paying homage?

Who kept his promise with the Cats and Dogs?

I'm out to weather the storm without the stats and logs

I got the gusto

Talented, yes I'm gifted

Boosted, shopping carts of spray paint, lifted

Ruthless

Youth is something I ain't buying back

So I be on the grind and while I'm trying I be eyeing that

[Hook]