Go

The best to beat up beats and bang

From the rough terrain, so tuck your chain

I don't have sentiments, the streets stole my innocence

So I roll with ignorant belligerents

Stop playing, you won't shoot nothing

I got a heater with a mute button

I take along when I'm crew hunting

Was in the red, now they see me out the blue stunting

No gang shit, absorb the language

The truth was never painless, but in my case forever dangerous

I never hang with lames with excuses

For everything, with them I'm never seen

I'm in between both stories like a mezzanine

But made my own path way ahead of things

Now watch the enemies that the cheddar bring

And make the temp hot enough to make the kettle sing

Go

Educated fool, never played it by the book though

Bludgeoned mathematics over cook stones

Take over temporary thrones in a broke down palace

Any block, any jet, any parish, we want it

Quiet money speak emphatic, hand to hand sleep tattered

Project status lavish, off the graph

Blown extrapolated madness, the spirit fractured

Sacked sensation will never satisfaction

Plastic stare, sweet pattern clocking

Po-po weak belly, leave block and go to triple option

Pop daylight, hot step

K-9 trailing behind them prospect, it's a process

Stamp passage, holy grail, tessellation on the table

Lawyer and bail fees wrangled

Language art, tossing bread out the stony ark

Lonely march, scale shimmy balance light and dark

I'm surrounded by clowns costumed as street niggas

They fictitious, photoshopping a bleak image

Need to speak with real niggas and seek penance

It ain't neat cause your peeps dig it

Yo, swear to God that your clique sound like episodes of Glee

You a goddamn bird, I'll straight smack you in your beak

Talking all that hood shit and get right hooked to your cheek

So if you like your teeth, my best advice is never speak

Your life, I don't believe it

Your LP need a disclaimer on the front that says, "Side dish needed"

Come through with Guilty, a show

Stomp you out, nigga, choke you with

A mic cord and throw you in the crowd

Holy Toledo, this negro sound like his id put a jib to his superego

Eat rappers, but the palate really meant for C-notes

But a side of bad bitches and some Pellegrino

Go