Trust the fucking shooter
Uh
We in here counting dead president heads
Up in the years, it’s been up in the mills of dead president heads and counting
They put pictures of dead president heads on green, long papers
Then went and put dead president heads on mountains
How we ain’t gon’ make it?
You know what
I went from women asking “what’s the scent of your fragrance?” to center of attention
To dinners in Vegas, then all the way to Japan racking up yen
Now I’m all the way back
And I’m acting like Dennis in Vegas, stacking up wins
I’m a young black boy, armed, dangerous
To those who want to come and try harm or change him
While they’re living in anguish, while I’m living in real nigga harmony
Energy around me blend together like falsettos, tenors, and bass
All intelligence is on God level
All memories formed in melodies from the 70s
And all hail to all dinners and plates
And all hail to the cartels, and we out on a yacht
And you know how we know that we are and you not?
Because y’all are looking at our sales
I’m a motherfucking one-man army
I’m more R than our, I put the 'R' in ourselves
Uh, I’m the one they can’t generalize
Every time I come through straight, their wave minimize
Why? It’s probably ‘cause I gun through they gay enterprise
Niggas get crowned quick these days
Street this, best this, king that, we ain’t seen that
All we see around your clique is squad cars
Niggas need to get crown vicked these days
Stop kicking it, you couldn’t fit in my old socks
Let alone my shoes
I’m not a street nigga, I’m just a chip off the old block
I ain’t rocked with an entourage since ‘07
Niggas dissed Marshall after they copy his whole reference
Like we won’t send an actual firing squad to their studio
That will Basquiat their whole session
A lot of niggas dope, but none concern me though
I got that Pac, Big L, Pun eternity flow
I got that blowing that weed, taking that last drag in
And tossed in the infirmary glow
I’ll hit your broad in the gall bladder with this bald dagger
Have her hollering “not the knife” ‘til she having an orgasm
And all of her juices is haul-assing down the thighs
God dropped me off in the drop with the crossroads with crossed toes and dotted eyes
I’m not alive, I wasn’t born, I got a ride
Uh, get your popcorn, idolize ‘cause I’ve arrived
This is Cam Newton throwing bullets with the band shooting
This is beat submission from Bas Rutten
This the [?] edition of [?] it's proven
Nigga, pay your dues, you’re past due here
This cash rules, you’re looking at the wrong paper, this bad news
Relax junior, you still think you’re in high school
But you not, but you will be looking at your last new year
Ha, boo-ya, bombs over Baghdad
Compliments since 7 Mile, Fenkell Ave, Cash and Poo Bear
With directions to just go blasting through there
I ain’t stressing ‘bout none of you poindexter responses
I ain’t tongue wrestling with no artist unless it’s Ashanti
Nigga this, God, Gandhi, Kevlar labcoat
Mixed together with leather bathrobes like Plies and Fonzi
Cool science, I’m around lions and giants
You there, Ryan’s here
No one can hear you crying where I’m at, the highest tier
One diss track could tear your whole act up like the Flatbush Zombies
Gripping the Mac truck with Travis Scott, hitting your Macbook
I’m not a pioneer, I’m the last of a dying prayer
Living in forever, ever, ever, ever, ever in laughter
And ever since that heffer put me on MediaTakeOut
I ain’t fucked a basic bitch since
I got sophisticated bitches coming to my place asking “is it safe to sit?”
I said, “only if you have to take a shit”
Country chick named Delores, I let her sit on this Mason dick
Rappers blew up and get to shouting out designers
I like to thank my notebook, it got me out of the binders
Blacks never had each other’s backs
Rappers saying “All Lives Matter”? Okay, now we’re actually spineless
I’m into psychology nowadays, she say she bad
I’ll probably brainwash her like Hollywood did Stacey Dash
A lot of guys out slanging for a belt buckle like Pootie Tang
Wada-Tah!
5’9” the illest MC of all time right now and all the time
Kneel right in front of me like feel sobriety, young'n, or fall in line
Uh, right now, I’m piranha dipping in waters of Flint with the Slaughters and Em
Come on in, dummy, the water’s fine
Sniff around, I smell just like money, I ain’t hard to find
I’m doing big things
This bitch asked me do I got at least 50 shades
Just the other day
I said, “come here, let me kick game
I got more than 50 shades and just grey is the colorway”
I gave my momma a pic of myself in a big frame
And a card that says “bitch, I’m Rick James” for Mother’s Day
Uh, I just thank the Lord and pray for more
I just lifted the skirt of the devil
I don’t really care how you're dress her
Nigga, I'm just out here to take your drawers
Make the winner fall on the track
Let nature take it's course
I'm a product of the old Death Row camp
I ain't a fan of his, he might want to be standin' clear
I come with the cannon, not the cameras
I ain't Shannon Briggs, but let's go champ
Let's slow dance
Kill you with the first and give you seven more, necromance
Best flow versus yo petrol rants, you gassin'
This that new black Bent, blue Aston
This that who dat against who askin, who ya again
'99 the Outsidaz told me I wouldn't last
I'm too arrogant
But here I am, two boys two girls two era's in
And they over there on pills and heroin
Forks in they careers so that's real embarrassin'
If I could just get you clean through my charities
I might just let you breathe through me vicariously
But then again, I might not cuz I don't write sparingly
I'm torn between get along, fight, and why can't we
Fuck the Stitches approach
If I have to show up, I'm slashin' your throat
Your arms are too O.G. Maco to box with O.G. Wacko the G.O.A.T
I'm not a factor, I'm the whole problem
Down to subtract for a fraction of folks
Your favorite artist a diva
I put leaves around the heads of non-believers like drawings of Ceasar
Wake me when the sleepers are done ignoring me, bruh
I'll be flying with a full tank of gas on ether
If you from the block, watch y'all sons
Watch y'all daughters, 'cause I saw murder
Slaughter much as I saw hot sauce and hot dog water
I came a long way from wishin' under the stars
But I ain't come all of this way just to say I've come this far
Coppin' paintbrushes with black cards
There's no limit when it comes to this art
No need for twitter followers, I dodged prison
I'm the non-equivocal black and at large
Listenin' to a Timbaland track in a villa in Calabasas
I'm that same little Cringer and Battle Cat kid
Addict specialty pen and pad scenematics spazzin'
Fuckin' wit' a bitch about as bad as my spendin' habits
I got nowhere askin' can I have it
All the valuables I have in this world, I had to take it
Had to open King Tut's tomb up in my imagination
Had to separate fear from respect and admiration
Get rid of your fears
Time to remove doubts and
Think about it, there's two sculptors named Gutzon and Lincoln
Who carved dead president heads
Who got paid dead president heads by the president
To move a mountain
Uh, contemporary art deco
We keep the shit rockin' like the dails of Art Basel
Stompin' through this hip-hop shit like it's our step show
We survive
We should have bar mitzvahs for these bars
We the gods
We should shoot bar missiles with these bars
Beat the odds, look at the car see the rides
Don't be surprised, just realize
We ain't runnin' for president
So, we ain't worth shit unless we alive
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Krizz Kaliko
Slaughter
Max Schneider
Mindy Smith
Don Gibson
Dead To Fall
Adassa
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