|
Yo. Ain’t no competition when I am here
Bitch I’m a pioneer
Constantly dropping shit like a pigeon with diarrhea
I’ve been living inside your ear
My Lyrics got long COVID, they’ve been sick the entire year (yeah)
I speak with confidence, compete with dominance
Beat all of yuz. I’m a God say the Greek mythologists (boom)
Quit trying to rhyme, fuck your streams and followers
Shit’s a crime like pineapple pizza condiments. (Yikes)
When we strike, it’s like the pissed off french.
We raising pigs not hens, you’ll get dumped in Brick-Top’s pen
I’ll body… (who) anybody in your kids top tens.
I study hip-hop gems not fucking tick tick trends. Now check it (uh)
The flow’s armor, so calm and collected.
No bravado or yelling yet I go hard in a session.
Belly rumbling, very hungry like folks starving in Yemen.
I cherish my rap career… so far it’s a blessing
Everybody’s name is « Lil », most starve for attention
Lil Wayne probably suffers from post partum depression.
But… (what up ?) Rap is more than just a gun and a tattoo
If I started using drugs I’d probably mumble my raps too.
Hands up in the sky if you love this
We all live this and put nothing above this.
And if you dig this here go head and bump this.
Or step the motherfuck back from my circumference, what !?!
Quand le son est létal j’opère l’autopsie
Livre le cadavre aux microcosme toxiques
Esprits trop hostiles et caustiques,
J’esquive les avis posté, allez faut qu’ j’quitte
J’enfile les ’staches et le postiche
Cap sur la costa, pinacolada pause - clic
Vida loca factice, Pola plein de faux flicks
Ils veulent du glossy, du gossip en story faut qu’j’filtre
les illusion d’optique, les punchlines de post it
Les diss et les gros titres, exit, ma nostalgie post geek.
J’abdique easy illico,
Qui a dit addict qui a dit toxico ? Qui a dit toxico
J’pense à refaire ma vie avec une ligne de code
Une I.A in love et une famille de bots.
Un village, une bicoque dans un film d’époque
Comme un Westworld dans une ville Bretonne.
Genre Westworld à Carnac, ça ferait une putain de série ça
Hands up in the sky if you love this
We all live this and put nothing above this.
And if you dig this here go head and bump this.
Or step the motherfuck back from my circumference, what !?!
Now who the fuck you think you’re talking to
You auto-tuned bitch
l’ll give you five across the eyes so quick
You’ll swear that you have talked to two
Now auto-tune this
See how “this” fall on the fifth
Come on Guy Fawkes I’m telling y’all that I’m lit
Thats why these rappers wanna duck me cus my text epic
And these labels wanna duck me like a text edit
But when I’m rapping to the bank cus I can’t fill up my tank
They like fuck you fuck you fuck you you don’t get credit
Get it? Nah cus they just want me to rap fast
Man they be calling me telling me double it up
They dont want me to back pack that’s why they all in my rap bag
Like I be pulling a bunny up out of it aint that about a bitch
I’m but a clown but I aint really funny when all that I got
Is a crowd who want money tricks fuck the funny shit
When you itching to cry
Get your hand on a lemon squeeze that bitch in your eye
Let that pain be a blessing here to lift the disguise
That lemonade was only meant to get a kid sugar high
Hands up in the sky if you love this
We all live this and put nothing above this.
And if you dig this here go head and bump this.
Or step the motherfuck back from my circumference, what !?!
|
