Message for the People The Alchemist (Ft. Durag Dynasty)

[Verse 1: Killer Ben]
Killer Ben mobbing with Big Twin, the verdict's in
Guilty all accounts for assimilating the illest men
Rep the gods, king murders squads, gooniess to get it in
It's a Brooklyn Queen's thing, outsiders we're boxing in
Cause we frost-slush [?], bear jacket claws
Crisp corduroy, Armani sweaters from Michael Kors
Times Square when the ball drop, spitting off the top
Sipping out the whiskey flask, dead-ass if I'm drunk or not
People push for supreme niggas who murder cops
And for killers in pink housing, busting shots
Make sure you get right when you approach a mark
If you catch the drop you ain't gotta shoot or belly talk
I don't fit descriptions of puzzle pieces that fit in
Don't respect a system that's built on slaving and lynching
Enlightened minds, assembly lines, they're missing vital parts
Soap box, Huey New Glocks fresh out the boondocks
My tune knocks harder than feds raging in early morning
Slipping with that work where you rest, flushing it down the toilet
I'm trying to stack for a Porsche, so each must take the course
Knock on wood, fuck boys thinking that I won't pop them off
And hitting rappers when Needles thought it was just a cough
Weeks later on his death bed, thinking about dude he crossed
Real niggas do real things, still reinforce
This right here is like word Speakeasy, metaphors