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on Talkin' 'bout he Italian Say I won't go drop a double album And rap double time on all dub-step And got no producers Just me rockin' over beat-boxin' By
a du rag If somebody tell me ish I'll put my foot up they ass I don't play it by the books play it by my own rules I ain't sticking to the script imma do
And cop my album please We got the ganja surrounding good vibes in every place I'm on a level unclouded by negativity Nothing to say Trees from the golden
the haze Crimson and dire Engulfed in mist, the Sword of Gods Onwards son and ride the Dragon's breath Struch from mountain are, chilled in morning
album Pull my pants downward I'll shit on you I will shit on you I don't care who you are I'll shit on you I don't give a fuck about you or your
I need a break from you I can't be someone new I want to talk about you I want to talk about you, check Uh, yeah You broke my heart just by being
You will get hit by my Creshendo You can't keep up with my Tempo I will not leave you in Limbo You know that you can't keep up with my tempo You
breddren I play by my own rules like the reverend Revelling in the fact I got the gold medal in Every Olympic rap that there has better been Best MC who
life Cause I'm in dire need of a ten by me I I I Am ready to go hard again Welcome to my parliment Where we're all designing But we're never called
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
don’t think that Ima clock in Dropped a whole ‘nother album I’m make it to the top yeah With the way these rappers look at me I think I’m becoming
act like Ryan Reynolds It's real sentimental, put the pedal to the metal All my thoughts are mental, this album like a temple For me to go, when I need
a child in a walker I scored from the inner slums abroad And my thoughts are razor sharp I slice the mic from the cord First they criticize But now
into an album Send it straight to gold But I don't really like my flow, no So tell me what you want to hear Somethin' that'll light those ears I'm
parties are the shit, forty mags by the scones I'm fighting for gun rights to shoot a nigga in his dome Click your fucking heels, there's no place like home
the world in a vice grip Woah Going for the throat when I write this Note I ain't going home here quite yet No See me on the scene I got an ice pick Gold
I need another story Something to get off my chest My life gets kinda boring Need something that I can confess 'Til all my sleeves are stained red
to you dukes, I was wrong Well you out there now, so put my black ass on And sure enough, huh, in about a year's time I was r-a-w, goin' for mine
suckas hating on my name cause I'm next Protected by the planes J-L-R family crest Momma fall back from them lames and fly with the best Get paid
life's too short But I'm going for gold like I do sport And I'm fully fit, the rest are full of shit All I need is beats and I'm fully equipped Yeah I roll
at the mansion when we in Miami The pillows Versace, the sheets are Versace I just won a Grammy (woo) I been so quiet, I got the world like "What the fuck is
Intro (Siri) And R.I.P. Dj Shay Verse 1 (Grafh) I just think how short life is, Uh They probably give me my roses after they honor me Stabbed me
dawg, by any means Humans are so greedy, I promise to never leave and Never lose this hunger building in my stomach, y'all made even Said my grandma
through Working tape, gotta see it through Niggaa finishing the album, gotta see it through R.I.P. Lito, R.I.P. Phew Please watch over yo' dad 'cause he
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