Rocketship

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Yeahhh
Yeah
Fire verses, I'm whippin' hearses
I guess I'm cursed 'cause people lurkin'
People
Yeah
Fire verses, I'm whippin' hearses
I guess I'm cursed 'cause people lurkin'
People
The Devil workin'-, the Devil workin' against me
I had to go put some work in so I could stack up my pension
So I could stack up these benjamins
I could ice out my neck
So I could stack up these checks just to keep you bitches in check
So I could run up a million and put a price on your head
And then I go and collect because I run with that tec
Oh yeah I run with that tec
But I wasn't talkin' 'bout refs
And I wasn't talkin' 'bout ball, unless yo bitch wanna check
Polyphoniac ain't just me, it's a two for one package
I'm never lackin'
Call you TI cause you're gettin' it backward
I'm never wack, always sober, never hittin' the Backwoods
I'm on the track and I eat like a fat kid, what's happenin'?
Polyphoniac coming at you live from the basement
My fucking flow was amazin'
My fucking cadence was crazyyy!
(Okay, okay)
(Yeah)
(Verse two)
You lack the common sense to step to my accomplishments
A fucking college kid
Ain't no carpool, but a free ride, it's astonishin'
ATM I stack it up like scholarships
And if you try to test me Imma hit you with the hollowtip
I got the grip, blast ya ass away, like a rocketship
I turn you and your colleagues into border collies, you a bitch
Yeah, yeah
It's clear like Vis-, ugh f*ck!
It's hard to jump in it from that, let's get it
Yeah
It's clear like Visine, you seen that I'm mean with the banter
I got the bars like Zimbardo but ain't no full ride to Stanford
I got the questions and answers
I'm on the ball, Enes Kanter
I ain't no mofuckin' cheater
I got the keys like a landlord
I got the bees, I'm a keeper
And in this line I'm the leader
So tune in to the teacher
And you better come harder that this if you ever ask for a feature
(I don't know, it's like weird but-)
This ain't no classical music but this is classical conditionin'
I keep you bumpin' you head, when you're listenin'
I'm sick with it
Man I'm ill as f*ck, and you're illiterate
And if you want the smoke you could get puffed like a cigarette
Yeah, Nicotine Powell, local lesser-known criminal rhyme syndicate
Song made by two menaces with penmanship
Bars infinite like life sentences
Consistently blowin' your mind, with no incident
Polyphoniac, sound it out and add emphasis
I'm prepared for various instances
Ball out, extra innings, so now I'm pitching in
FIFA World Cup the way I'm kickin' it
MLB World Series the way I'm hittin' it
It's America's favorite pastime, isn't it?

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer