I run a train on these bars, no conductor,
Cole bend tracks like a slave to the hunger,
Bass drum heart, every snare is a number,
Countin’ up scars while I’m countin’ up commas.
She ride the vibe like the rails in her spine,
Steam in her eyes, moanin’ in time—
Midnight express through the cracks in your mind,
Uncut flow, leave the purists behind.