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King Lyrix

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I walked up to the fork in the road, and went straight
A nigga out here just tryna eat with a big plate
And y'all don't understand what's at stake
A Big Steak... Eggs Benedict, Euro stepping, and French crepes
Fine dining, fine wining with French grapes
But I feel like I'm going nowhere, What does this shit take
More than what's necessary I guess
And all that hating ain't necessary, I'm blessed
I don't where I'm going, but I'm walking by faith
Through the valley of the shadow of death, in my J's
Shut the f*ck up! I'm doing everything my way
Fuckin it up... Coolin, nigga I'm Ice Tray
I'm way too digital to be moving in analog
I give you gifts within my rapping... Santa Claus
I'm damn appalled
Niggas can't applaud
Diamonds on me changing different colors like they Camouflage

IDK Where To Go
IDK Where To Go

I don't know where I'm going
I don't know who you're reading
I don't know what I'm showing
I still feel overheated with shorts on when It's snowing
Unh
I'm so confused
So misconstrued
I been so abused
I don't compute
If you talk bull shit, I'm gonna mute
If ain't bout money, I won't commute
I got 100, I wanted 2
I'll do anything that I ever wanted to
Truth..Pulpit
I don't need a rude bitch
I just need a breezy to chill at the pool with
Or the jacuzzi I guess
Ride around top down feeling groovy at best
What do you suggest?
These women are moody at best
And nighas with quote on quote "talent"... are booty at best
That's why it's so confusing
I'm so lost in illusion
What the f*ck are you doing?
Who the f*ck are you choosing?
They choosing wrong, but two wrongs don't make a right
I'm eating rappers just to satisfy my appetite
But three lefts make a right though
It doesn't make it right though
On my pen, I write though
I don't call hoes, I write hoes
And I make sure to include the typos
While I'm balancing on the table rope
And I'm balling like MJ that's Michael
I'm balling and I might knock yo house like Tyson, that's Michael
I might dogg yo ass, call me Vick like Michael
I might take your girl fabric shopping at Michael's

IDK... Where To Go

Call Me The Don Pablo Lyrix Escobar
But you ain't Escobar
You ain't even next to par
I'm the truth, never ever had to flex wit bars
I pull up in a coupe
My bitch drive the extra car
They gave three options, Rap crack or playing ball
I spit crack and I ball, I'll take em all
Cuz obviously I rap
And I'm fucking raw with it
I don't know what I don't know, but I know I gotta get it
You know I gotta get it
Split it
Then I might just have to quit it
Go to court and get acquitted
Ain't no witness
I'm just a rando
Captain Camando
Rambo with the tools
Ask Brando!
Got a bad bitch named Bridgett
If my pockets short, your pockets under midget

Uhhhh I honestly don't even know where I'm going with this song

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