Gail Devers

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Faith, bigger than mustard seeds
But I ain’t f*cking the DJ
I flip my money and it come back three ways
I’m flowing through success I’m on my freeway
Road block, ya’ road stop you f*ckin’ quitter
You block me, I sprint, I’m Gail Devers
Plus a hurdler, in the booth I’m a murderer
I plan to corner off the game and send b*tches to coroners
Quote me young kid, that’s why I noted it
Who knows if ima make it off this poet shit
The haters, friends and family, all y’all
Some of y’all, less supportive than a bad bra
Some of y’all, I’ll push on Nigga
And have you trippin’ as I count my figures
Yeah, it’s all adding up
Looking back, thank God for algebra
‘Cause if I X you out, ignore all the Y’s
No counting Z’s, keep my eyes wide
That’ll equal up to what I really should find
And what I should find is really what’s been mine
And what’s been mine is feeling like it’s theirs
But f*ck the lyin’ lucifer the girl don’t like to share
I want cars colored in all lavender
My own plane where I’m the only passenger
I am who I am and that’s no trick
No catfish, but I am a scavenger
Because you’re dead to me if you ain’t gotta hustle
I feed off weak sh*t and spaz on em
The game can be taught with one rule
There are none do what you gotta do
‘Long as you can look in the mirror and see love
‘Long as you ain’t satan and you still bleed blood
You good

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