Pursuit of the Unknown Lyrics

Late at night I'm cruisin' through the city for a vibe

Where the freaks come out, I'm suited up like Shaft up in his prime

Hear 'em whisperin', the streets is talkin', alleys full of lies

Pimps and prostitutes, we all just tryin' to get a piece of pie

Junkies in the hood, chokin' and smokin' on glass dicks

That's it, I'm shakin' niggas down, I'm pattin' on they sides

Every brick a crime, every corner dealt, I'm movin' with the stealth

Of post-plastic surgery operatives

I'ma hop offline and be cool in real life

I'm sendin' shivers down these niggas' spines when I'm on real mic

That shit just help me heal like The Rock, 2003

I'm Hollywood, let's make a deal

I deliver you the truth, you deliver me a mill

Several mouths to feed, no time to be on yours

Gainin' clout from memes

They tryin' to give out reads, It's givin' left on seen

I left the scene some years ago

And I got the receipts, "Gnarly" brought me peace

But not enough, I'm in these Ghetto streets

Lookin' for the beef, I can see the grief

Tried to help them heal, tears up on they cheeks

This industry ain't for the weak, I give em' more to see

I gotta crack the case and catch the cracker killin' all our dreams

Might have to cuff myself, I'm feelin' sexy, when I kill these

Wait, I think I found a clue on it

Nah, I think I found some blue hunnids

Nah, let me get my magnifying glass I hear voices from the past

In the city of the angels, where the truth is in a mask uh

Where he at? Where he at

Where this motherfucker at, dawg

Where he at? Where he at? Where he at

Where this motherfucker at, dawg

If I was gonna catch this punk, I had to get down to my roots

Back to the basics

Just like in the suburbs, you might hear and see a few things

You can never get anywhere else

They sound a little something like this

"I come from that Section 8 housing

And that waitlist got hunnids and thousands"

"Don't be claiming my son as dependent

If you fuck up my EBT, I'ma go BET

Black out and make an announcement"

"I'm a blackout like Robert Townsend"

I just upped the score, my film got more

My mother-in-law, my accountant

I got a little sister, bro

I'm dropping the crumbs, she follow my lead

I discover the clues and open new doors

So I can't be sipping on lean

My head on a swivel, I'm keeping it civil

Got people depending on me

The unknown is greatness, that's what I'm pursuing

So why are you hatin' on me

I gotta go beat up the block

Cause I found fingerprints on a bottle of Wock

I checked out the DNA, there's some nigger in there

I'm punching the clock

Bright and early in the morning

One hand on my glock, I knock, knock, knock

He rubbing his eyes, he open the door

I'm hoping that we can talk.. he like

Good morning, sir

Can I help you, sir

May I speak to you about the murder of Mr. Coolidge

I don't know nothing about that, goodbye

That's not what I asked

You're gonna tell me everything you know, punk

Everyone's a suspect

Gotta make the dots connect

The wrong move can bring a sudden death

But Jim Jameson ain't lost his hope or lost a step

He ain't lost it yet

Don't.. look behind you

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