if all it took was luck i would already be struck yeah caught by the good life waiting to wake up but it s more like disaster born as a bastard turned into king or the dreams that you re after these days have been crazed i ve been raised in the city of angels that ve been slayed men played the children games with real guns cops n robbers and cowboys and indians i survive to twenty five in the sun under the moon in the twilight with my hearts drum beating the same beat my ancestors came from pow wow circles and peace pipes greet a storyteller spelling out the key to life my shell s a gun now still i carry them and my spirit not the dirt that they re buried in i ve grown very thin living off of bread and water books paintings film and sex and the music that s been therapeutic for the trauma my songs bring me clarity they also make me wander now i m standing in the london fog i think i lost angeles and i smell the smog my mind drifts to amsterdam i see the dawn i m in my beach house in cape town then flash it s gone if all it took was luck i would already be struck yeah caught by the good life waiting to wake up but it s more like disaster born as a bastard turned into king or the dreams that you re after rats n mice with wings circle above pigeon or dove who even really gives a fuck the names that you call for it all hear me grunt about the things i saw a careful widening rings a being bare feet on the hardwood floor about to kiss the ceiling i m sick of kneeling i need a prayer i can walk through into the house built from everything i thought i ruined if this the house where the couch at try na smoke a sack and write raps cut an opening above where the mics at but sunlight slips right past i wrote the illest shit you ve never heard then left it in the street as an offering underneath the wing of a dead bird gemini be the shepherd and the herd both sides deep down in the same spine should ve fallen by the waist side but i crawled out bass side i spit wine through the grape vine here s the hope that my faith dies i see the rope that it hangs by  if all it took was luck i would already be struck yeah caught by the good life waiting to wake up but it s more like disaster born as a bastard turned into king or the dreams that you re after