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]