My dudes would trap in the same shirts they worked in
I ain't hiding bitch, all my hearses are burst in!
They wanna chat about fake shells and skurrt Benz
Lurk in with a gat and just talk widdem, there's worse sins!
Boy, I don't spit, when I write a rap it's the words of gods!
That's bismillah, if they Quick to Draw I won't play the odds!
Hoe! They in disguise, not in the 9, Hoe!
I catch a vibe, they tend ta gripe!
Boy, I don't spit, when I write a rap it's the words of gods!
That's bismillah, when I'm Picking 4 I'm not playing odds!
Hoe! I catch the eyes, don't judge replies, Hoe!
So I'd be wise to drop the lies!
I lived in Akron, but I lost my footing
Now I got blood-stained Kent State hoodies!
They goin' keep acting far as faith they put in
But I cut the dead weight, and net gained duties
They better worry how I make my munnies, Uh!
Dude I been tryna earn a living since I been alive
I'm not the guy who's always tripping 'bout a credit line
And I won't ever write a bar because they're all implied
Outside I run into more problems, so I stay inside!
When I Get Out, then my Jordan's Peel into Tommy Fords
I'm sick rapping 'bout objects that I cannot afford!
I break my back for my job, it always gets me sore
I give it all to my passion, then end up wanting more
Your rhymes are stupid, I strum thru it like Bob Hewitt
You knew to it but construed it, I just knew it!
Chasing tail but she's lining back, said that y'all threw through it
Jason Taylor, if the fit is green then the drip is suited!
Boy, I don't spit, when I write a rap it's the words of gods!
That's bismillah, if they Quick to Draw I won't play the odds!
Hoe! They in disguise, not in the 9, Hoe!
I catch a vibe, they tend ta gripe!
Boy, I don't spit, when I write a rap it's the words of gods!
That's bismillah, when I'm Picking 4 I'm not playing odds!
Hoe! I catch the eyes, don't judge replies, Hoe!
So I'd be wise to drop the lies!
No gold where the bars be at
If you singing then you all need cap
All bling like the Bronze Knee-Cap
I couldn't shake em, but they all attached
And it's the same when my gat could blast
Your songs are dated, I'm over-hated, so my praise belated
Sick of the aggravation! done with the self-defacing!
My motivation was created, it ain't generated!
Voice of a Generation, knocking on heavens basement!
I got some followers I'm Jesus ina Jansport
I got some borrowers they begging for the transport
I'm gonna call it first I'm running short of cash source
I dropped a swallower a wallet grabbing crash course
Rhymes bullet-proof, like a riot shield or an otterbox
My phones commando, I keep the screens to the orthodox
I spit a rhyme and I change my mind, there's a pair of docs
I cracked my head, now some CTE could bring harder knocks!
Boy, I don't spit, when I write a rap it's the words of gods!
That's bismillah, if they Quick to Draw I won't play the odds!
Hoe! They in disguise, not in the 9, Hoe!
I catch a vibe, they tend ta gripe!
Boy, I don't spit, when I write a rap it's the words of gods!
That's bismillah, when I'm Picking 4 I'm not playing odds!
Hoe! I catch the eyes, don't judge replies, Hoe!
So I'd be wise to drop the lies!
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