Y'all staying talking like clocks,
ticking me off, yo rhymthm be off,
I rarely go soft like the victims I take,
money I make on the bed that I shake,
fake, maybe so just for the stage,
I just take a page out the mainstream rappers of the day,
falsify everything I say,
while I make beats like I cloned just blaze,
blas-phemy, like I'm acting in a play,
thinking it's real, but I charge you matinee,
lines and rhymes raw like I'm back in the day,
back to pulp fiction now I'm cracking the case,
briefly, like a brief case full of cash,
over evidence of a room full of hash,
at my residence where the door got bashed,
but plants get planted like farm land,
aw damn, thought I'd reach a rest stop,
but the letter z in my alphabet gone,
so dehyrdrated I can't sweat y'all,
heat stroke got it from the fire on my next song,
but I'm resurrected like I'm lazarus,
black mail executives so they can't cancel us,
double negatives turn into a positive,
we sound alike but we really more like homonyms,
problem is y'all complain but don't really solve shit,
either way the globe keep on revolving,
pall bearer, carrying, I can't falter,
fat pat playing mayne I wanna be a baller,
shot caller, point guard on the court,
baby baby, here's a hit you can't abort,
gotta bear it like joy or some bad news,
don't want to be it but it's needed so what have you,
aquemini still bumping til the bass die,
what's my dream, me and 3 stacks face time,
my scheme, well, I'm self absorbed,
thinking I only exist and the world ain't yours, ha,
naw that's just a parody,
some modern men think why, don't they stare at me,
entitlement like vitals and they barely,
got enough talent like the sand man preparing,
say you fly but you don't got enough airspeed,
to get up off the run way, maybe one day,
that ain't in the days that's from Monday to Sunday,
tryna make paper but you couldn't make the front page,
I can't emphasize my disdain for bitch made, dull brains
thinking that they sharper than a switchblade,
but couldn't cut slack or class in the fifth grade,
white belts tryna kick it with the sensei,
myself, I know I aint the best,
but I'll be damned if a man beat me to success,
beating my chest on top of the empire next,
who got the fire don't require a guess,
cause you know, that I flow like jets,
high mach speeds your propeller ain't spinning yet,
in effect like echo or re-verb,
on a different page like the 80s with a beeper,
I'm in the house like congress with a speaker,
or kid n play kicking heals to the beat,
loop this, leaving it playing on repeat,
musical chairs, y'all other rappers have a seat,