I'm on my Don Dada shit, Tribe of Dan, Damballah
Pitch black mamba hiss, triple stage consciousness
All that shit and a bag of Utz
Vintage can of St. Ides with a Spanish fly, platitudes
Never rapped about the Lexus coups but passed the test
Knew five beans could get you bread and a can of soup
And that ain't even haram though
More chips for the sticky green, the tippy tippy tambo
I had em Billy Jean, hit the scene the whole block glow, they lit
I switch from rubber bands to binder clips, knots, but I aint rich
I'm tryna set sights on more dire shit, real retirement
So I'm lamped where the trees stay green past November
Acid in the cemetery, axe playing tenor
Under water with the walking dead
I had to put heart on this beat to torment ya head
I know cats behind bars adorned with a fez
Or shorties who could shoplift a pregnancy test
These the eggs of the nest
So catch me on the corner of the new necropolis
The last weed man in the apocalypse
Holla kid
Holla kid (Holla kid)
Holla kid (Holla kid)
Even white baby Jesus bump it
Mine stir the soul
My shit streak the bowl
Knows the face of joy and pain is Esther Rolle
Tryna hit a zone on 'em
This Amazon jungles they tryna drop drones on me
Searching with the chrome for me, there's no low pro
It's high brow with a hot comb flow
It's foreign ground, I'm E.T. tryna phone homies
I'm breaking free the ceiling's made of bone only
So don't push me, I'm close, know the ledge
From the tree of life I smoke foliage
I'm heavy handed cuz my joints is obese
But flying high the sky starts at my feet
This backbone, my book spine reads "The Life of the Chief"
But Cavalier, not the same King James slicing a giant peach
This reach broadband for shorthand getting this carpet to fly shit
Rare like 90s Chocolate Thai spliffs, whoa
This dope "in the house" like Jerome
I'm reppin' for those dressing like they just getting home
The stroll sad tone saxophone, who can't get a 'pass go'
Or chance to hit em on the horn like
Holla kid (holla kid)