Wicked
I’m sick of all the fakeness, yes,rappers taking talking about
assasinated you get like malcolm X
(this is the chorus, which I remember the best)
The abyss, the place for the weakest (wicked?) of the world to exist
you falling in a bottomless pit, the abyss,
watching all your getting dismissed,
creep into the darkness, known as the abyss
(heres the beginning of another verse)
Hold onto your hats and glasses
its time the shadow began bustin'
I step to the microphone not knowin’who I should be trustin'
Cuz lately lots of MCs be
(something something) studio gang
But I can hang
half of these rappers, it aint nothin but a superstition