Lyrics:
ain't play my cell, I'm out here bright and early
Workout with the lifers doin' a thousand burpees, you dig?
Plain Jane Richie, five-hundred-eighty Benz
her brains out until she had a heart attack
Now her corpse is in a body bag, in the trunk of his Pontiac
Down by the lake is where I just parked it
On my last album told you that my body pained me
They let the dogs out the cage
But then they chained me
Psilocybin and thc is how to contain me
Imma hot
to questions we shouldn’t ask
And those sentences that we couldn’t start
I meditate by pushing start and that
V12 is bullet fast
Spaceship in sports mode
Alien
about somethin' I said in 2012
Took you six years and a surprise album just to come with a diss
Homie we get it, we know that you're the greatest rapper
every day is like a rerun
So I reach out and try to teach one
But eighty-five percent uncivilized content
No tolerance so a lifetime is spent
Behind
dance
5 magazines on back up
( Hook )
Meet me in the alley
See me in the allego
Switch and save like aldi
When they had me on the outs Yo
people out there better than me
I just do what I do, you know what I'm saying? Yeah aight
[Verse 1]
Uh, I can't feel a field nigga pain
Devious skill that
get out (Boxing Day, yeah, yeah)
That's three (I knew)
Then what's after that? Nothing
New Year's
Four and what's
New Year's Eve
Five, where do
spazzin' on my album, got me feelin' like what's next
Supercharged in V8 mode and slap it in the C8 Vette
Poppin' out outside because I know my brodie keep
Now this that SpottieOttieDopaliscious, hella vicious
I wonder where is this, hold up
Get the fuck out my business, show enough
We roll up then
somethin', huh?
How come they never cross over to us, huh?
I never seen five niggas on Elvis Presley's album cover
ain't know if I'd see daddy no more
By the time I was seven, we all moved out to the city
Southside, Minneap-, you know these trenches is gritty
Only
This is your album, so that means you definitely got to get funky, so run it
[The D.O.C.]
Swinging, singing a brand new rap
On a rhythm concocted by
indie records show up in a W-E-A box?
By saying your independent, you belittle the whole movement
Real emcee's work hard, ain't got investors to put out
That shit sound like a job nigga, this shit so fun to me
I can shit out these albums, yeah this shit is nothing to me
Don't you forget nigga, you just
your body shaking
Don't mind me reminiscing the love making
You said if I don't show out then your love is for the taking
Bad bad girl please be gently
"what's in the bag" he says "two acres of plants
It's easy going in but hell gettin out
I want to make this paper and I think I know how
surprise surprise I
know what, I would hate me too
If I had the same MySpace views as you
If I saw Skepta go from sitting on a wall
To sitting in a white V6 coupe
I think
P
He hit me one night
Talking bout hey what's happening
And all I had to do was be like
Hey come by
I wish change sometimes
So many years that shit
I'm like a Bat Out of Hell, being pulled by Black Stallions.
Waiting for Metallica to make another Black Album.
Created a stone age cage, I'm fenced
and dot my Is
Contemplating on ways of breaking out this nine to five
Staring in the mirror and I question, "Who am I?"
Five years I been living, and I
rematch
The kinda ass whooping
You’ll only have to open up one can of
(Nickel Nine the God) Huh?
You ain’t rolling forward
You’re rolling wrong
Reaching out
to chill out, end your album out
I love y'all
Anyway bro, you remember that "Gone" shit you had in middle school?
Yeah bro, I remember that
Look at us now,
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