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Sa-Roc. The reigning monarch of the rap game. Gold chain, bronze skin, silver tipped fangs. They tried to come for the homie at the rest, so I bodied 25 of em in the lobby til the press came. The Mic Dynamo, native tongued Navajo, first queen turn a battle hymn to a bible quote. The intro got their interest piqued second line got em all mixed in like its Zydeco. Y’all already know it’s red black green, all day, everyday. That’s why the Feds tracking me. Got a fist full of bread, the other above my head, saying power to the people shout out to my brother Fred. Right? I’m from the boulevard where the bullets fly higher than the dreams, Pirates and the fiends beefing over cream. That’s why me and the God Sol Messiah chanting down anything Babylonian, glad he on the team. I’m finna drill in the center of your medulla blongata til u acknowledge that I am the effing champion. This is classic soul and y’all just sampling. Flow got everybody jumpy bruh-trampoline. I’m charging any mc to get their bars up. And then I’m stringing these negligent A&Rs up. So they can watch me while I chop, cook and scarf down their favorite rappers’ quotables then vomit up the carcass. Is she that nice or a narcissist. Time will tell. What’s a lil ice to an arsonist? Time in hell. And By the time I end this 32 I’m converting you and your lil crew to a new religion,a rhyming spell.

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SA-ROC: Golden Milk Feat. Assata Elom Produced by: Sol Messiah