I woke up on the beach like "where's my pants at?"
quick, I gotta find a box or body to ransack
No Beginner's Luck, no guild or clan tag yet
only this lonely cozy little sand mat
There's no bringing the band back just antagonistic
yelling in the distance
now who the hell is Hillock?
this fellow keeps bellowing his name
he's like enveloping rage
I gotta put down to skill up
but mostly just to see an oaktree drop Oni-Goroshi
closely at my feet.. hopefully
nobody's stepping up and slowing my speed, in fact
I'm leaping over hook and Merveil to the next act
on a path for the champions in to the encampment
gaining advantage from slaying the bandits
fall into Sand Stance, improve the reach
and breach through The Shadow to receive inner peace
Now grind the mirror for the sake and engagement
compartmentalize my hideout basement
and waste no time on real life drama
pray to Tukohama in a race for the Rasa
trying to stay sane in the face of Kitava
and find a safe spot when the floor's made of lava
no shame in not being a saint or saviour
endulging in softcore jesus-like behaviour
with no bedspread just a hole in a mattress
directly connected to shaping the atlas
by hacking and slashing, batting and bashing
and hitting the track like a freeze shatter attack
but when I can't grab any meat from the pack
I'm at least gonna feast on this beast on my back
trapped in a group of domestic exiles
all on the same map dodging projectiles
like a resolute and reckless citizen of block town
I'm fully linked up on the brink of a lockdown
adorned with a leash, on a rampage streak
see OP fickle me, praise oh triple G
and call out to all of 'ya
"Tala Moana warrior"
