DIRT DON’T STICK

They threw dirt on my name…

Forgot I was planted.

Coyote Cartel.

They put dirt on my name, but the shine still gloss

Heavy lies in they mouth, but I walk like a boss

Marble floors in my mind, I don’t sleep in the mud

When they pray on my fall, I just rise with the flood

They put dirt on my name, yeah they tried that trick

But when you chosen by God, dirt don’t stick

I move slow, every step calculated

They rush to judge what they never created

Silent wins hit louder than the hate

Same mouths talk down now asking for plates

I been broke, I been doubted, I been scarred

Now my scars read scripture when I park the cars

Pressure turn coal into diamonds and kings

They gossip from sidewalks, I negotiate things

They confuse my patience for weakness and fear

But I been ten toes since the pavement was near

Real power don’t bark, it observes

Let ‘em dig they own graves—I don’t touch the dirt

They put dirt on my name, but the shine still gloss

Heavy lies in they mouth, but I walk like a boss

Marble floors in my mind, I don’t sleep in the mud

When they pray on my fall, I just rise with the flood

They put dirt on my name, yeah they tried that trick

But when you chosen by God, dirt don’t stick

Queen City crown heavy, skyline know the face

Exhaust echo off Tryon, that sound cost money to make

Uptown views, South End nights

Glass towers reflect every move that I make

Convoys stretch longer than traffic on 77

When the pack pull up, feel like pressure from heaven

Charlotte treat me like numbers that always add up

I don’t chase clout, I circulate capital

Same ones doubted now quiet when I speak

Same roads laughed now paved in concrete

Coyote Cartel stamped in the city’s code

We don’t rent respect here—we own the road

Champagne thoughts but the roots stay humble

They see crowns, never saw the struggle

Dirt was meant to bury me deep

I grew through concrete, lost sleep to succeed

They put dirt on my name, but the shine still gloss

Heavy lies in they mouth, but I walk like a boss

From the mud to the throne, still clean, still lit

When God write the story, dirt don’t stick

They threw dirt on my name in the Queen City soil

I stayed solid, let pressure turn struggle to oil

Charlotte watched me rise, now the city salute

Every step heavyweight, I don’t talk—I execute

From back streets to bank streets, same calm, same code

Never folded for clout, stayed loyal to the road

They mistook my silence for weakness and doubt

Now my presence alone make the rumors fall out

You can throw dirt…

But you can’t bury what God already crowned.

Coyote Cartel.

Queen City.

Bosses don’t explain.