Lyrics:
Producer 9-0 verse
I wonder about the hypocrisy/just a kid wanna play monopoly
Racially profiled and destined to be piled/driven in with a pile
Black-Jew Power
With these gems for the gang, though
We keep friends on the payroll
You depend on the fakes though, whoa
Who y'all think y'all fuckin' with?
dumping.
Now I'm trying to make it out, trying to write these tracks.
Yeah, we the All Blacks, we ain't your average boys, trying to put things on the maps.
tip toeing On this
Sipping black tea from Starbucks
Peach infused,
And I ain’t write none of this neither
I mean it to
I’m meaning to
Get back
curses in coercive
Verses that disperses mss hysteria
To work stiffs that work shifts for worst tips
With over baring worst pits no signs of anti
taunt me
Shawties can't flout me
Labels can't doubt me
Independent, I show up like a Door Dasher
You can keep the tip
I'll let you ride up in my whip
energy/
Wants me inside her/
Inner most thoughts on the love tip/
Working every day to keep her promise to God/
That's the realist verse I ever wrote/
comfortable in confiding
And I tried it, so I'll lean on the music
Every verse I write is like a glue stick, bonded by the acoustics
I been trapped in this box
hell
I saw through everything nobody was living well
The Melting Pot of black and white that was The Dot
On the block or by the park that was the spot
a black belt
Boy I am a sensei
The way I whip with these verses I master this shit
Or in the kitchen with the Pyrex
Everything that I cook up is dope
Might
political
Right hand man of the father of the nation the Prime Minister
Red black and white the holy trinity
Fire earth and wind and the legacy passed down
[Showbiz]
Yeah, it's time to silence the lambs. Let niggas know what time it is
on the real tip, know what I'm saying? Showbiz & A.G. killing all
working on my mixtape
All black puffer and it's grizzly grip
I barely slip, I'm fully equipped
You skip, merely merely in your house by the cherry tree,
built up my own fucking Private Island!
Bangarang, Captain Hook
Black mustache and a dapper look
I'm the feather in the cap of the seven seas
And you
her she can't bear my children
Tip top denim I'm known to be a menace
Fly blue-drop tinted, rolling up my spinach
In my new zone spinning
Elevating
and stacking chips
I’m the number one pick these verses that I rip allow me to hit my mark like arrow tips
Hook:
I got the beast inside I feast on these rap
her she can't bear my children
Tip top denim I'm known to be a menace
Fly blue-drop tinted, rolling up my spinach
In my new zone spinning
Elevating
it
Plus I think when this shit drops niggas gon' get about it
Hip Hop is too crowded
And I'm on in the tip of the stage slappin hands in the front row
my name and
They bathing me in Gatorade
I've been perfect with the verses
Since my first appearance
So each person who hears 'em
Is worth
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