We back to relapse On a block called 'The Trap' Crooked court of a king caught in sub prime collapse An implacable base out a cracked window crawls At a smashes snail's pace Dragging this song We back to redact them old tags on the wall Them names at half-mast, that lawless lack scrawl Mere bylines at twilight recurring last calls Three-or-four letter loyalties that pass before dawn We back to burn Not to testify fire single serve earns No exile a return is entire right This ain't no last ditch midnight mass Sacked cloth and ash dripped, aftermath of a crash Startled gray glass shit Ask Dax motherfucker Guess who's back...