The Grave Sack Incident (feat. ASM)

F Payson, GT Malone
Case file 453
The Gravel Sack Incident
As tradition dictates.. It started with a dame
Bout a month back claimed to seek shelter from the rain and
F Payson even called it on the spot “black raven”
Hence the present time palaver headlights to the harbour
Thick smoke.. Fog lies heavy on the docks
Cigarettes glow from the corner where they stock the crops
Shots of the scotch no rocks
Straight from the hip-flask glance at the clock tock-
Tick-ing indicating that the operation saving black raven
Is a go stroll down to the yachts
Something doesn’t smell quite right - gas cooker
Laced with the faint perfume of high-class hooker
Veronica, quite the looker
The wail of violin harmonics echo in the harbour
Hook a left and leave mental image resting in my brain
Just in case we bust the case and must escape
Board the vessel, sense the millions
Malone and Payson handshaking through the minions
And in this line of business the trick is to...
"Wait Pays, look, the staircase! the Princess!"
CHORUS
Where the snakes rub shoulders with the kings
Every minute in the midst makes it harder to clock
Who's who in the cesspool sink or swim
Shark fins circling the block
X2
Lucky us, the princess is the boss' only offspring
The reason 20 unsuited suiters lie in coffins
Grim stories over gin of their demises
Requires this sire outside for oxygen
As we walk on to the dim lit deck
Necks almost twist to check through the mist
A swiftly approaching boat in the distance
Mysterious from the hull to the engines
Truth.. I make it 4 silhouetted suits on the approach yo
Throwing out a rope between the boats so
We infer quick, judging by the pattern of the pack
2 leads in the front.. plus the muscle in the back that pack the
briefcase…. mink-laced.. black leather gloves clutch
Subtle stir of tension in the nerves of the lady dove
It maybe love… Siberian clime frosty
Diamond sacks… Liberian mine sourced
CHORUS
The grand finale crowned with a curtain drop
Couldn't know Veronica's a hurting cop
Heels never Birkenstock, twerking ¬up the dance floor
Working hard and finally reveals her work of art
Stern and smart delivery of boss arrest, no sympathy
The man she knew by skin of D, stripped of being free, consequences
On the fence of how to proceed
When a glimpse of the pimps with the diamonds reveal
Ey yo, they’re breaking out, over the rail
Into the lifeboat as slugs rain, heard a voice bellow through the hail
“It’s Smokey Joe and the Kid!” infamous, wanted by Interpol
For decades… Jewel thieves top of the list
The mist clears, and there within the bath of the floodlights
Snagged a bag of diamonds of the blood-type, marauders
Briefly caught their eyes across the water
Grabbed the gravel sack quick then dipped with the daughter
CHORUS x2