Lyrics:
(okay)
To his album we ride we so mob (okay, yeah)
I throw lives and lowest to live
For my loaf of bread the people's player
I did what the culture
all ready know what it is)
Thank god for those days, thank god for those nights
Though it might seem wrong thank god for that white
They use
to stop by and check us out sometime
He looked at me like I'm out my mind
Shook his head like, "White boys don't know how to rhyme"
I spit out a line
I'm the Orson Wells of the rap game
My debut album about to be my Citizen Kane
No disrespect to the greats
But I'm the greatest instead
I only call
Off my 9, off my roll
Have a toast
Off of 9, by the hour off payroll
Off the wage, on the wave
How it goes
Stream sales don't mean nothing
But a post
eastside shit on the speakerphone
I send work out to Georgia, it's all peachy though
Coke's all white, you think it was bleached by Ichigo
Getting money,
on Calеdonia Road
A couple factory gigs, split between the folks
Kept us all afloat
Hearts still full of hope
By '89 suburban dreams was being bought
So we
like that"
I reinstate addiction, when my album drops it's a relapse
I made this in my room on a Sunday and I have told you that
Before so I guess that
a leopard, but had feet like those of a bear, and a maw like that of a lion. The dragon gave The Beast his power, his throne and his great autorithy."
Bro (Bro)
The NEON iCON album, are you serious?
It finally came out today
Are you serious bro? (What? What?)
Bro, crank the windows down, I'm about
I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day when, loudly, I heard
A voice sound like a trumpet from behind me, and so I turned
His hair was like white
the core
Crying out for more
You hide yourself behind your close door
Close door
Weh the thugs dem are ready fi di conquering
Lion of Judah is now
This is Minister Metal Foot, treat a pedal like an earwig
And cook off by applyin' the same logic to the gearshift
Bird off prey circle, serf homes
Depression Anxiety
PTSD
ADHD
Low self-esteem
Abuse
Whatever
I want you to throw this on Cleveland
The album
Produce mix and master by me
'em right
They love it when I mix the baking soda with the white
Police got me on the run
'Cause they know we movin' by the ton
City to city, state
talk about my race on the whole first album
But black vs white bullshit was the still the outcome
How come these motherfuckers can't seem to let it go
(okay)
To his album we ride we so mob (okay, yeah)
I throw lives and lowest to live
For my loaf of bread the people's player
I did what the culture
and she's flying, I feel I'm flying by em
'Cause my mind's on cloud nine and in a mine at the same time
Pimps see the wings on the underground king
Who's
By now the whole world should know my name Big B I be killing shit
Virginia done seen the grind but now the world gone witness it
The past couple
Covers, videos and all that shit
Fuck you post-Drake-ass cliche-jerking, LA-Slauson rapping
Fuck-nigga-ass Hypebeast niggas, now back to the album
it graphically
Direct order, hit the border, then slaughter
Horrific torture, by prolific authors
Shape and mold MC's, like I'm playing the skelly top
new moon on a scale that defies belief
Outside what our fundamental sciences teach, every other mighty lion asleep
Gangway - mine eyes, mine teeth
I met a bitch from Mayagüez, now we Puerto Rico Gang
My Ahkna saying he worried about me
But I got a lion, I don't got to kill
Concrete jungle,
Taylor's in that stash
By that 7-45 beamer
And the way you give back shots
Like Venus and Serena
Have a nigga on stage gangsta leanin', oooh
If ever you
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