Текст песни
He needs no introduction
He needs no publicity
He needs no promotion
He only needs you
To give a big round of applause
I wanna hear you say it one time
Loud and clear
On the count of three
One, two, three
Burn!
They said that the fire was gone, but it never left
Hotter than the brimstone found deep in the Devil's chest
No religion, I hold a vision farther than Heaven's steps
Hope you listen, ain't no forgiving, driven by every breath
My pops could've stuck around, but instead he left
So he met his death, fuck grieving, I'm already stressed
Bring it to the calisthenics, nice steady reps
I'm doing heavy sets, drinking on every rest
They say I'm very blessed, I think a different way
I sell a clip of yay and I got kicks today
I ain't got shit to say, this is just a sick display
Street religion I give 'em, grab a clip and pray
I'm legendary and sharper than ten machetes
My vocals evoke spirits and wake up the cemeteries
Where acres of men are buried, my hand's on the Eagles
And the only safeties I know, they playing the secondary
You haters are never ready, my words dope
Take 'em in vain, they'll have you shaking like patients from epilepsy
I'm saying you best respect me, the last one of his kind
A street prophet, you better pray that his best protect me
Don't wait 'til the Feds arrest me, my life should be celebrated
Visions of middle-aged niggas saying they never made it
The world's segregated, the have and have-nots blast shots
What you expect? We ain't been educated
I'm mentally elevated, I'm meant to be levitated
Those who oppose me is eventually devastated
I'm hated by many, respected by all
Loved by the ones who told me I was destined to fall
Aggressive and raw, I don't use discretion at all
Artistic violence, all of my weapons could draw
From here to eternity, my words'll be surgery
Mercifully, the devil'll curse whoever gave birth to me
The booth is my solitude, this is church for me
You shouldn't even exist on the same Earth as me
Send 'em straight to Mercury for tryna spit a verse at me
I'm perfectly chiseled from cast iron
My verses are scriptures from past Zion
I worship the pistol and blast iron
Submerged in the issues of skag buying
My vivid tales of street horror'll leave scars
In the worst part of your brain and destroy it like Pearl Harbor
This boy is the world's author, autobiographical scriptures
The first father, just listen and work harder
He needs no introduction
He needs no publicity
He needs no promotion
He only needs you
To give a big round of applause
I wanna hear you say it one time
Loud and clear
On the count of three
One, two, three
Burn!