Dirty World

[Chorus]
Paint wet, always clean
This is basically the stuff of dreams
In a dirty world, so it seems
Drop the clutch, gon' let the wheels scream

[Chorus]

[Verse 1]
These blocks is the building blocks where these buildings block the sky
So I'mma stack 'em 'til the letters spell DIGGS, I can see over the roof and figure truly where I stand
Up... town, used to be downtown, used to go and the Bottoms used to crack
Not [?] for slacks and guitar
Blacks in the car, packed to get to the club fast and didn't enter through the back
Doors open, the pores open, we pour cancer into the porous, hopin' they open for more
Cause we got it for cheap, my product was deep
Thoughts I thought 'til the streets caught up with me and taught me let it sleep
Now it's catty killers blowin' Cali Dro, killin' cats in the Cadillac with the calico
Sack, and you don't know, but it's over, say I got blow and them rollers come to your door and put holes up in your Coroll'

I mean, hey bro, I mean, Day-Glo
And to think you just got that re-up from Daygo
All o' them pesos
All that you paid fo'
Add it up to a milly all in your face, whoa
Solo is so low if I say so, myself and I do
Mice, elephant in the room, I'm
Not to be spoken on, my thoughts are impressive
I'm making an impression like a John Wayne western
Hollywood Fame Walk, probably could, may not
Y'all be good, same talk, I'm still on the same block
Though the blocks change, I'dda stay hot, main
Water drain, stop pain, drownin', Wayne Scott stayin', shoutin'
"Hey, stop, mayne!" Not me! Not never, today
I'm a box Chevrolet
How I talk clever? Okay, literally
My American-made parts gon' break
The hood gon' keep me shinin' while I ride to the grave

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 2]
Uh
Shots ring out, another man down
Take a minute, figure out what's goin' on around
Me, I shit out words and hope I hit upon profound
Statements to explain it but there's nothing to be found
In my dictionary so I paint a picture but to get a better look
That is, if you're not terminally sure, create a hook
To hang the frame and hold the pictures that I took to hide my [?]
With signs of peace, like "I am not a crook"
Look
Slowin' up your [?]
Like they've lost your chance
When everybody that you know could end up Oscar Grant
And all o' my friends seem like monsters
But I am just a man, I'm pretty sure I'm holding nothing but what fits inside my hand
No dimes, no Glocks, and there's holes in my socks, and I'm foldin' my laundry like everyone else
I'm a block at the coin operated on the corner, it's hot in the dryer
I cry, California

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3]
And I'm cryin', baby
Forgive me if it's awkward
The sickness is thick and I'm pissed at the doctor
Knocks at the door, I'm a peephole king
Castle made of shattered gravel wrapped about a string
Catch me on the corner, hat out, tryna' sing
Locker at the Greyhound, packed full of dreams
Like the cattle busted all up in the house with two things
Excuse the mess I've made, I'm just tryin' to get clean