That be smacking these tacky kids, blasting trash and be that

remissed
When it comes to living legends, giving dead ends to forbidden
revving
Of a spitting peasants that wanna fit in begging
But inadequate rappers'll never sit in heaven
For the long haul, song fall
Everybody gone y'all, wrong call
He was in his own, all blown, dawg
(The industry) Dong sauce, grown drawers (Got in, hopefully)
They got they money where it supposed to be
Sitting hella heavy if he didn't spend it totally
I can do whatever when I get up on the pen and pad
I meant it when I said I was a pro to be, bliss soulfully
Hella percussion I give when I'm bussin' and really that's slow to me
Slow it down, I throw this flow around
Then the women get freaky like the beasties they wanna hold it now
Hit it 'cause my roguish style
And when I get into ya, ugly was meant for ya
Flippin' like gift for ya, Tech is the emperor, I be the coldest pal
Still in the conversation, and my bombs are shaking
On your station, I would racing and I didn't ponder waiting
To get up in this being a fixture, that everybody will lift up
And nobody will diss ya, and get away with it
They getting victory is for fathom
We don't play wit' it, spray quidick
History the dark has 'em
I done been around for the risen fall of a lot of y'all heart spasms
and still standing
So when I say hopefully and hope when I know it's lightweight
sarcasm