Put my fucking mask on and I go, lyrical attack, slitting your
throat, little bit of magic on that tragic, then it’s classic, then it’s
gold, everybody rapping about dough, how they got a bad bitch on that
pole, I don’t really have shit that I can rap about, but I’m batshit when I
flow, like “yo, that bastard is so cold, like his name was
Snow,” whip in on a dragon to that castle, put my ass down that
throne, king of the first men and the last men that imagine they could
rap shit, I’ma slash them then like Casper, I go ghost, whoo!
I don’t wanna be another nobody with nobody, no job and
no hobby, so I make notes and words into notes that are noteworthy - I
thought I’d make it before 30, but I’m running out of minutes and I’m so burnt, man it’s
over…I’m only feeling better about my odds any day I’m not sober, so I
grip the mic, my dark saber; feel the Force - I’m Darth Vader, I
choke them out with that sharp angle then throw them down in my Sharknado - I’m a
never-ending nightmare - Freddy Krueger with a Luger in the night air, got you little niggas
running round and ducking over corners till you look over your shoulder, then I’m right there, then I bid you
adios; you out of juice and I’m out of hope, cause you autotune all your
audio…it’s all good, I’m still 1UP like it’s Mario,
that’s the way that this party go, 16 of these bars will go, like
Isaiah Rashad, I shot you down, and you dive bomb in a cloud of smoke,
mama turning in her grave’s the only way you’ll make anybody roll, and that’s
just the truth, I’m sorry bro…way outta they class, they can have it
fast, they can have it slow, they can have it whatever speed they need to see I’m the
master of this show - my raps are the last thing that you’ll know…I’m a
problem that you can’t solve even when you try hard, like Bruce Willis, you’ll
die hard from these cheap shots like a dive bar…take a look at this
pie chart - evidence that my job is the exodus - got their
eyes wide, to the sky while they yelling “my God” like I’m heaven sent,
can I be real for a second, man? I may not be the best man,
but I have a speech, and I got a chance…yeah, and I’m down to toast, and I
like to sing, and I like to dance…but come on, dog, every last
song gotta take the same old stance? All I’m hearing about is
New Bugattis, booze and parties, stupid hobbies that you
do with money, these dudes are funny - you not an artist, all you
do is copy the newest copy…yeah you might be hot as
brewing coffee like Uzi, Yachty, and Juice and Cardi, but I’m
through with all these Illuminati New Society rappers
music poppy, doing Molly, lames saying they got
tools and shotties, your future’s shoddy, consumers hopping off of
who they jocking; you decide it, so choose it wisely…