Mask On

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D1C3

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 Struggling with Mask On? Become a better singer in 30 days with these videos!

I set it straight, y’all got no skill to debate.
Cause you can time’s 1 and 9 and you will still get ate.
I’m at your throat. Point th
em out and I’ma rain bombs there.
Cause I’ll explode at any moment like a GameStop share. 
They ain’t expect that I’d be anything. No care.
Then I popped, and you’re the law when the Capitol got stormed; nowhere.
Vesuvius, y’all in that Pompeii ash.
I’m tryna pile bodies taller than Chris Conway plaques.
I broke my back for employment
Use to rap for enjoyment
Put my music on the map and y’all come back to destroy it 
So I point at y’all and sick
Get up off my dick
Y’all ain’t on my level to keep running your lips
Jump from your ship. Bitch

What more do I gotta prove
to show you fools that I’m better than you? 
Put down your hand, we ain’t cool.
Artists in articles. You’re all on the news.
No competition. Get your armor or move.
Get your armor or move. 

Mask on, pussy. My Mask on yo.
Mask on, pussy. My Mask on yo.
Mask on, pussy. My mask on.
If my mask on I’m putting my hands on you pussies 

I’m cool like Cliff when I walk in the booth.
You’re washed like Rick Dalton; I’m just telling the truth.
Mask on letting shots off the mic’s a shotgun.
Always ready when it pops off like Charles Bronson.
You can’t change the station. No, I’ve been waiting patient.
Stayed in the basement and now my aim is amazing.
I’m rearranging the way the game is played and
the top spot is vacant. I’ll bring the pain like Jason.
Going mad like I’m Max when I’m rhyming on wax.
Your past your prime on these tracks dog. Your timing is trash.
This is like Scorsese directing Marlon Brando.
And like Rambo I ain’t ever running out of ammo.

What more do I gotta prove
to show you fools that I’m better than you? 
Put down your hand, we ain’t cool.
Artists in articles. You’re all on the news.
No competition. Get your armor or move.
Get your armor or move. 

Mask on, pussy. My Mask on yo.
Mask on, pussy. My Mask on yo.
Mask on, pussy. My mask on.
If my mask on I’m putting my hands on you pussies 

Me and Dice are bringing it back to when rhyming was brash.
Trust me like Khabib I’ma smash anyone in my path.
Lyricism on a higher level. Foot is on a viper peddle.
Cruising in the studio. Your bars are landing nice and mellow.

I’m out the chamber; still loading the 36.
You ain’t seeing me in the court like your fucking attorney dipped.
Wu fam. You heard me spit.
Go killa bee when I’m lurking
to hurt a beat with no purpose.
I hope you feens ain’t allergic.
God mode. Got ‘em stuck in the bomb smoke.
Go to sleep like alarms broke. Keep on thinking you’re all woke. 
At war with a pen. A stroke of my brush and my swords sharpened.
I run with the Gods.
F*ck all you herbs. Jump in the box.

What more do I gotta prove
to show you fools that I’m better than you? 
Put down your hand, we ain’t cool.
Artists in articles. You’re all on the news.
No competition. Get your armor or move.
Get your armor or move. 

Mask on, pussy. My Mask on yo.
Mask on, pussy. My Mask on yo.
Mask on, pussy. My mask on.
If my mask on I’m putting my hands on you pussies

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