Uncut raw

Introduction:
In the realm untouched by lactose, in the heartlands of Bolivia and Peru, there lies an unadulterated purity. Behold, my friends!

[Verse 1]:
Life unfolds as a ceaseless struggle, a narrative known to the individuals who navigate its harsh terrain. Some embark on a tireless quest to multiply their fortunes, while others feign camaraderie only to betray in the shadows. In the grip of poverty, even the most innocent souls are coerced into acts of transgression. It's a sickening spectacle, but a phenomenon that thickens one's pockets. The authorities are met with disdain, and the denizens of these streets bear no remorse for those who uphold the law. Even the sanctity of religion is not immune, as desperate souls might rob a priest for mere religious artifacts. I find myself wandering aimlessly, traversing these unforgiving streets, contemplating the deeds of top-tier criminals armed with weaponry capable of halting even the fiercest adversaries. They are not averse to engaging in heinous acts. I, too, am lost in this labyrinth, moving through these domains, thoughts consumed by the enigmatic figures who dominate this world. I'm the one who inserts a snub-nose firearm into the darkest of places, a volatile mix of recklessness, psychosis, and kleptomania. Disrupting the tranquility of the metropolis, I perpetuate a reign of violence. My inherent criminal nature keeps me entwined with illicit financial ventures. The sketches I create are synonymous with accumulating wealth, while acts of transgression are the preferred path to follow. Violations may result in abductions and gruesome decapitations. What you face here is an unfiltered portrayal of reality, ignited into action. We subsist off the land, accompanied by five companions, engaging in revelry with Guinness stout and a feast of clams. These experiences are all part of a larger plan, a seasoned figure taking residence in Tampa, exploring the Western lands. Out-of-state connections fuel our endeavors, rife with bullets, passion, narcotics, and grandeur.

[Refrain]:
What, indeed? This is dedicated to my fervent comrades, the uncut and the uncensored. To those embroiled in the gritty struggle, to the ones serving 25-to-life sentences.

[Verse 2]:
This substance is as pure as opium, distilled to perfection for streetwise individuals to savor. It occupies a mental space akin to three luxurious L's laced with the finest cocaine. Shots are fired, arousing an intoxicating sensation, as undercover law enforcement attempts to infiltrate our ranks. Young gangs and killers undergo rigorous training and indoctrination. However, pretenders will never comprehend our ways, for my methods are honed to perfection. I operate discreetly, never revealing my hand. My imminent rise to prominence is certain, amassing wealth while maintaining a low profile. I indulge in the opulence of Cristal, dabbling in Long Island and Moët. As a part of nature, I yearn for expanses of land in Jamaica, where I savor exotic, seedless herbs wrapped in leafy parchment. So exhale, for if I do not survive to recount these tales, then farewell. I shall meet the rest of you in the fiery abyss.

[Refrain]:
What? This is a tribute to my spirited companions, the uncut and the unrefined. To those ensnared in lifelong battles.

[Verse 3]:
For all my comrades, engaged in the trade of heroin, cocaine, and cannabis, who among us can chastise them when they lack the means to support us? Survival is the name of the game. I've witnessed it all, from Peter robbing Paul to conniving individuals and the most audacious drug deals. It's an unceasing war, with our streets teeming with an arsenal of firearms. Young recruits are being groomed for battle, their minds molded for the inevitable. So, my friend, cock that firearm.

[Outro]:
The time for games has passed; we stand ready, prepared to confront any challenge. Holding individuals hostage, we send a resounding message to all. What? What? Rest assured, it's time to take action.