The savage in I'm battling foes
The ballots in the Vatican - whoah
The pope knows
I'm bad as Prince with acronyms
Or bad as Michael Jackson's hit
When he asked him on “Bad”
But that was back when rap was rap
And TAF was Kap (The Artist Formerly Known As Price - TAFKAP)
And Jackson's black
But back to “cap” when ya'll gon “snap” huh?
Middle fingers to thumbs
I finger the drum
I'm dirty I beat it
I "heat it” like Phoenix
Till I'm leaving' her sons (Phoenix Suns)
I'm a star in the middle of the field
On my Dallas shit
I'm valued bitch
All of my exes sending' me text's (Texas)
And “X and O's”
But I leave it on “red” like I checked the post
She can try to put that D-on (Deion Sanders)
But check the score
It's “Prime Time” that I hit it and I left her sore
I'm Al Capone when it's Valentine's whoah (Valentine's Day Massacre)
But y'all “wine” like Italian vines and choke
Know the deal
Knox Hill is-real (Isreal) like a Palestine foe
Never been the badest but the fact is that the pen and pad is savage
When I'm pent up and I'm mad
And I'm bent up in the lab what's cracking' check the package that I'm wrappin' (rappin) never plastic while they lappin' up my “track” my track-suit
Quick-wits spit slick: hI-Q
Nit-wits get sick: ha-chu
No mask adjacent, not vaccinated?
Sucks to be you huh?
I “spit sick” like a lab out in Wuhan
I “slay dogs” (sleigh dogs) and I'm ridin' out on you cons (Yukon)
“Genocide" like I'm filming out for Mulan
Uhhhh
I “draw lines" but that's too far
“Cut it out” like a coupon
‘Fore I get “laid out” like a futon
And then made to look a suicide up in a cool car
Drunk up in U-bar
Need another “You” bar
With the pen (Penn) I'm Badgley
Follow me for cool bars
I'm just playing' I'm not a Psycho
I'ma “Christian” who “bailed” on right tho (Christian Bale - American Pyscho)
I'm “trimming' off the fat” but I failed at lypo
I'm letterin' these “caps” like I mailed a typo
Too smart for the retar-dent
Flame again I'm sorry that was too far
Woo-sahh
Hoo-rah
Who's tha
Shoota
“Smoke you”
Hookah
They say that I rap like “shady”
Well f*ck it I don't like the sun anyways
SPF 50 on the way to hell trade for sells my soul for the funds any day
Many say I'm way outta line well
Let me “but-in” (Budden) on you whores
Put your stomach to the floor
‘Fore I shove you through the door
This a “stick up, stick up”
Got a G-3-5 for a mic
Call me an “average Joe”
When even Esther Baxter knows
I deprive you from a life!
Get aborted distorted don't twist the proportions
It's morbid of course I'm a “pro” in the choice for your rights
When I come with the left
And I swing with the right on the mic (Mike Tyson)
Lend your ear when I bite
Too “Holy” for the “Field”
Never hold me for a deal
Still rolling with no wheels
In they “feels” while my plaques getting filled
Smile pretty
Like Clooney in fur
I'm born to greatness:
Like Rumi and Sir (Remi & Sir Carter)
In the back it's “Dead Presidents” but I rap in the present tense
Forget what's in the “trunk” that's for the elephants
I know I been through hell but I am heaven sent
I got my gift well “wrapped” (rapped) to make the present tense
Who says that I'll run out of bars?
Never run out of bars
You can ask the bouncer:
I'm like a gym card
Or happy hour at an open bar
Never put me in a “box” cause I quit my job
You can question my “buzz” but it's “la-di-dah”
This year I invest in myself:
That was common “sense” (cents)
I stay independent but these con-men-sense
That I'm coming for they neck leave em red man (Redman
Simps say (Sensei) I'm the best chef with the beef flippin' words
You can tell those pigs that I keep “flippin' birds”
I remember them days I was flipping burgers
Never “mince” what I spit now they flip for my verse
Oh you say you wanted “pork”
Well they know that I'm the worst (wurst)
My bad let me get up in my backpack
Get that pack back
I read art of war but I'm more like art of words
But never lack strap
How I frame it: art awards
But it's back to art o war
Know the Rule's when I Clap Back (Ja rule - Clap Back)
Got ‘em in-the-scope triggered (Interscope)
While they sit and pout
See I'ma die on ten toes while they sittin' down
They wanna “judge” me for my “sentence”
But the clip is out
Cause I “get off” from it like I'm Rittenhouse
I guess the verdict's out:
I'm Venomous