Olives

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Semi Six

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Brushin’ wave patterns 
Got chains like slaves captured I rock the Jordan 4s with the paint splatter
Put the axe on ya chest you’ll look like an Atlanta Braves batter
Cries from women and blood cane after
Been rappin’ since Jay and Dame was givin’ chains to rappers
I’ll be doing my thang til my name hang in the rafters
Champagne and laughter
My slang is mastered 
Got verses like Galatians chapters
Switch the game like LeBron James going to train for the Packers
Against me they gone lose like The Warriors when they played the Raptors 
These famous crackers take ya masters and get a place in Alaska
Ni**** still sneak diss but evasive to @ ya
I’m takin' steak from the platter
Shrimps and Cajun batter
I raise the glass up while horses grazing the Pasteur
We always keep a smile like the face of Santa
Uhhh
I’m on the grind like a thick strippers day in Atlanta 

I don’t need ya olive branch just olives to snack
Dollahs to stack inside a wallet that’s black 
Deposit a rack and make sure my pockets is fat 
And make sure my pockets is fat 

Yo
Yo my ni*** this is some stylish shit
I’m spittin’ Islamic documents on the Gaza Strip
You just a pile of shit 
Stop the shit
You not a God or a prophet
I’m Elijah Muhammad with Qurans in his pocket 
Diamonds in watches my shit is track 5 on The Chronic
Truthful lines lie in the sonnet no line is dishonest 
Talk is cheap I took a vow of silence but you know fly shit you I talk it fluent
My fours black and yellow like a Boston Bruin 
You bitches is Lara Croft lost in ruin 
Im tryna hang a cross on my Cuban 
Cop a loft off the music 
You know we the bomb I never came phony with mine 
That’s why they quote me like the Holy Quaran 
You not  the rap messiah more like ant Jemnimah with a fat vagina 
I’m in the whip wit a bag of ganja bumpin’ Cappadonna    
Ya girl get tapped like a lager
You ni****  just rap Pirrhana 
I open the safe 
Tryna cop some coastal estates 
Anything besides local is great 
I drove in the Wraith
Blowin’ a eighth 
Under the rag is ocean waves
Got chains like a boat-full of slaves
I’m gettin’ paid for what I wrote in my days
I blow notes like Michael Bolton on stage 
Fendi shades made with opal and jade 

I don’t need ya olive branch just olives to snack
Dollahs to stack inside a wallet that’s black 
Deposit a rack and make sure my pockets is fat 
And make sure my pockets is fat

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