KW (feat. Keller Williams)

In streets still soft with sleep, whisper words that are worth the dirt beneath
 Verbal arrows that you brought, shot down the moon in a parking lot
 I hit you in the dark, my fist imprinted with your teeth marks
 And your skin struck cobblestone, realigned like a broken bone
 If you play it right, keep me on the line
 Hold your knives so tight, til your knuckles turn white
 Any glove that fits was stitched by hypocrites
 No one else to blame, there's no reward for a wicked fame
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 Your eyes still follow me, like cigarette burns in a sweatshirt sleeve
 Like a space you couldn't fill, you can try to drown me, but I'm hard to kill
 You can struggle for my stride, cheer me on from the side with your pretender pride
 I'll forgive but won't forget, all the pain of your swaying threats
 If you play it right, keep me on the line
 Hold your knives so tight, til your knuckles turn white
 Any glove that fits was stitched by hypocrites
 No one else to blame, there's no reward for a wicked fame
 ♪
 Just when we hit the dust, hands smelling like coins and decaying rust
 Your heels were hazard-high, just the kind of crazy that would catch my eye
 Your instructions still prevail, just a few canthrows round Crooked Tail
 Your sling and slang in speech feels just like a lucid dream
 If you play it right, keep me on the line
 Hold your knives so tight, til your knuckles turn white
 Any glove that fits was stitched by hypocrites
 No one else to blame, there's no reward for a wicked fame