Avalon Willie the Kid (Ft. Roc Marciano)

[Verse 1: Willie the Kid]
A fallen soldier in Avalon
The hidden meaning
Trained in the shadow pawn
Waist deep, baptized in a shallow pond
Upon the chariot, chop it like shallots
Could have said salad, the bullet and the ballot
My chick bad laid black swan, grip a challice
Full of fine wine, full flavored
Layered in tradition, values, customs
Must grow apart and let the world grow accustomed
Let him think he won, see the truth it might crush him
Flustered, I plant seeds, let the wings grow
Trying to sand down my horns, I hand down a warm welcome
A heaping helping
Feast with my niggas belching
Two bitches from Belgium we never heard of
Belgian waffles you awfully mistaken
Lawfully unwedded to this paper that I’m making
Banking, I’m brave enough to be creative
But I acclimate like a native
Trying to blend in with the cadence
Abide by the rules, fuck the latest
Trend, I just came for the accolades
Spend more time on important shit
Self improvement, this money sorting shit