Mother May I
Make mayhem Like A.I
Sprayin from out the paint from away away
Like Kamehameha
Slaves to cable as the written word wanes
Propaganda poppin easy access to the bird brains
Ya heard me?
Brother You lack the taste
Walk in to the function lookin crooked as a bag of snakes
Don't let him drag the Wraith
Or else he'll prolly slash your breaks
30 for the Martin van Buren bitch
That's an 8th
Lacerate
Your ass will probably crash and bake
Similar to how I stay cooked on them saturdays
Over amassin' fame
Boutta blow like gas to flame
Blowing glass to make a bong
No more need to ash the pain
Yeah
Scalping tickets to my own fuckin funeral
Put some x's in your eyes no Roman numeral
Doomed in a cubicle
Catch me up in Utica picking shrooms and consuming them
Bitch
What's goin on
I'm really gettin' money
I'm really fuckin bad bitches
Really livin my life
Havin fun enjoyin myself
Oh peachy
Bitch I'm facin crowds I need the riot shield
You puffing legal, my dealer hit me
Supply the sealed
I'm turnin Jasper into Mount Olympus
I'm who yo bitch hits supply the sickness smoke eucalyptus
Shit
Workin' hard my whole team need a break
Paris Metro station hoppin over gates
Raise the bar is just my train of thought
Train to stop all these scheming niggas on my latest plot
I get the work in order, flow dirty like hoarders
Always keep it a hunnid while puffin through the quarter
This a different aura shawty like this life, light the spliff up
We split up and reunited for pipe
Livin the dream as long as I kill the game
Ever since I met Lucy I don't feel the same
Young Trip snapped
Ya added the fuel to flame
See I just signed my city
You knew that I'm here to claim
Wassup