Lyrics:
My sawed off by the bed, it's a craft-matic
The size of a Subway sandwich, ask Jared
Big foot givin' input
Every rhyme like Lisa Ray homie, fuck
through their Twitter followers, blaggin' em
By the way I've got an album out why don't you check it?
They listened once on Spotify and left it
Forget it
I
dumber?
Y'all gonna have to recover
When I pull you out of your slumber
Got consumed by being impressive
Ex girl said I was obsessive
Pardon me for being
an album
If you didn't hear your name well… Too Bad…
bigger and better things... it's all about the lettering… when it comes to self bettering... and I can tell by your intelligence… I aint gotta worry about
up
Do work, treat rap like a ripped skirt
Sow it up, rep your hood, nigga, throw it up
You'd been standing by my side for years
Sold out concerts,
see – my vision is clear
Van Gogh – just gimme your ear, chea
I’ma put on a show
Baby, gimme Van Gogh
That’s all I need, that’s all I need
Impeccable
Please lend your little ear to my pleas
Lend a ray of cheer to my pleas
Tell me that you love me too
Please let me hold you tight in my arms
I could
me in so many ways
You have given me new eyes to look upon your world
Step by step I begin to see as you see
And hear as you hear
I suspect that
Who possessed you to do that? Who programmed - that shit sound wack
Unplug your mic
You motherfuckers rap under a bunch of fuckin hype
Programmed by
All you need to do is hop on the subway and go, go
Let your brain leak out of your ears
Go insane nigga, punch all your peers
Ayy pick the kid up,
Your naked soul plugs its ears
Walled in for so many years (fraud, lies)
voices would bring down (fools, lost in) the sky
So why go on?
Forever
only work in mania
If you in my proximity, I'm gonna murder your album's release date
All of them praying I retire
What I got in my notes app could feed
ray but no I'm not child's play
shout to my peeps doing time upstate
this is the album can't wait for the mixtape
if you didn't know C.K is my
Nasty days holds no logic
Leaving you without any sense of control
Don't force your way out, just let it be
Know peace, silence, tranquility
Be
to infinity
With vivid-like imagery causing the people
To instantly pass out ah!
Don't be alarmed I'm blowing her back out
Don't need a producer to
Gimme your
niggas but
That's how I raised 'em
Scrape a opp off the board
Before you dry erase 'em
He put his hands on your
Brother? You gotta fade 'em
He put his
[benzino]
Get anybody on your roster who could freak with Ray
Obie Trice you a busta I don't think you wanna play
[echoes whilst obie is talking]
I'll turn an opp bitch to an esky just to see you bang opps
You aint' box, nah you niggas aint' box
We can make your ears ring, same way we aint' knock
let you live and I stand by all my statements
You can keep the clout you seek
I am validated on the pavements
Lost some people on this journey
They say
But your albums trash from the skit to the covers
I tear the plastic off and use it for a rubber (I'm)
(L) I'm the G.O.A.T. I just ball a lot (L)
and I work for the poor
Now tomorrow you can say you saw
KRS-One stompin' once more
I play by ear, I love to steer
The Alfa Romeo from here to there
the pace
Start falling behind
And tryna catch up isn't working at all
What's next for me
What's going to album once this album drops
Will it reach your ears
squeaky branches and your beating heart.
You are part of a subtle forest orchestra that only a sensitive ear can hear.
ct one point you notice a cave
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