Two Faces

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"Two faces" By beanski I rose from cold corners where the night eats your name, Pavement baptized me, flames taught me how to tame. Two-faced pests whisper in the back of the room, I smell counterfeit hearts like a storm smells the gloom. Raised on loose promises, mama’s prayers and bad news, I stitched my own armour outta heartbreak and booze. You wear a smile that’s rented, I wear scars that own, You build castles of air — I sleep on a throne of bone. No sympathy coupons — I cash in my grind, You laugh in the lobby while I’m stacking my time. They speak soft like saints, gettin’ off on your pain, But snakes curl when the winter turns my name into rain. I move with the hunger of someone who lost a lot, Each step a reminder of every battle I fought. You counterfeit loyalty — I counterfeit fear, I’m the echo in alleys that makes your heart clear. Talk slick, play chess, think you’re three moves ahead, I flip the board, call your bluff, leave your lies for dead. Not violent — just valiant, I wreck reputations,a Expose plastic kings, bankrupt their false foundations. You smile to my face, put knives in tarot lies, I cut through the tarot, read truth behind disguise. Cold nights taught patience, pain taught me to plan, I spend scars like currency — invest in who I am. You’re loud in the small circles, quiet when the storm calls, I’m loud where it matters — where the real work falls. No sympathy trophies — I earned every bruise, Turned every loss into lessons, collected my dues. They pray for my stumble, bet on my fall, I rise like tidewater, drown out their call. I keep my circle tight — like stitches on skin, If you ain’t put in sweat, you ain’t invited in. I’m Beanski in the background, but king when I step, I took chaos and pain, reworked it to rep. Cold stare, cold grind, colder than fake love, I move like a shadow they can’t point a glove at. You trade truth for applause, I trade comfort for real, You sell out your soul for a shot at the deal. I ain’t here to preach — I came to collect, Every fake face I flip gets what karma reflects. I walk with my ghosts but I feed my own flame, Street-blood survivor — I’m the one with no shame. So keep flossing your smiles, keep stacking your lies, I’ll be writing my future while your empire dies. No threats, just verdicts — I judge with the mic, Exposed every fraud, now they vanish from sight. I’m carved from the gutter, polished by grind, Two-faced—get faded — this victory’s mine.

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Timothy Clee

Author

9 months ago

Sixteen707

7 months ago

Bars: Dope 🔥 Delivery: Dope 🔥 Impression: Dope 🔥

ShizzaShark Entertainment

7 months ago

good vibes good flow stay lit stay grinding Slime 🤝 Bars: Dope 🔥 Delivery: Dope 🔥 Impression: Dope 🔥

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