Black Mamba

Eh yo, not an ounce of hate, or bad bone,

in my body bruv,

that extra weight,

thats my "fuck you talkin bout?" gut

We aint pack, a spare wave,

to ride,

no Ducati gloves;

Sweep the leg,

this that Cobra Kai, Karate Club,

Dressed in all black,

we aint stressin' yall wack,

We just wax on, n' wax it back off,

toss the rag,

Lick my, paws clean,

this should keep the buffer zone, intact,

I need six feet,

King Corso muzzle, when I rap,

Watch how, I reverse, in parking spots;

a little cautious,

I done did dirt, and watched these cops,

I know what's lawless,

This a full-timer job, to plot;

Lyve on my cordless,

thats my home-line, you get the watch-glimpse,

gotta go quick,

Fuck you talkin' bout, we need to build,

Prince dont know you,

my son, know, who nice,

and know Daddy nicer than most of you,

Fourty-old knock, as it should,

it's supposed to do,

Moving like unapproachable GOATs,

we might ghost your crew,.

It got you shaking out your mocassins,

boy my connect, aint your connect,

I aint got US in,

You see Im strollin through this game,

and still, got lots to pen,

Boy I done covered all kinda ground,

and still see, lots of land,

You see, Im one of one,

there's warehouses,

full of your mindset, with that cliche,

We seen that back in P days,

Make em' say Ugh,

You gon' make me say, duh,

just for questioning, suggesting,

Im something, like y'all,

This a hobby turned, John-Joseph Gotti,

you are not adjourned,

this is not a court, I'm in Ostrich fur,

Down filled, head table, slump,

bet my posture curve,

we Jumping out the Pathfinder Shep

it's Motaw and Bird,

Homie this is sacred ground, roaming,

this is not a turf,

snare drums and tambourines, shaking,

this is not a Church,

All I hear is, get the bag,

them same ones, rock the purse,

I sniff out, the Proctor smirk,

Show up,

just to shit all on your,

awkward works...

JERKS.