...give back what you owe me
I see that you’re still trying to own me
I’m over, you’re all just below me
I’m not any one of your cronies
I’m not any one of your cronies
I’m not any one of your cronies
Quit fucking around like you know me
I’m not any one of your
Stuck like a bird in a department store
What is the word? Why do these artists forge
Nothing but scorn? That’s not what art is for
Fuck what you heard, I’m ready to start a war
Smoking indica, bumping Indicud
Some would give a one, but I don’t give a fuck
I won’t fuck your bitch, but I can be that bitch you want
To them rockstars kicking fables
I got something you can suck on underneath the table
You’re not a person, you’re a money gadget for the label
There’s nothing in your bank account that you can use to pay dues
Pay due respect to these millions
You just choose your flesh, you ain’t living it
You’re put to the test, you say you’re killing it
But then you forget to be vigilant
I’m seven cases deep in estrogen
This ain’t my last, maybe the next one is
Let me real quick try on whoever’s dress this is
Could be turned on by a fella’s kiss
Lord knows that’s relevant
Lord knows I’m heaven sent
Lord made me this way
And that’s how I’ll stay
You chamber your epithets
My words are Banksy, that’s street art
Your boys looking hard as a sweet tart
You’re losing again, better restart
Your posing’s an act, that’s in three parts
How could I not be the one if I’m the only one of me
Bask in the sun on me
How could I not just blow up leaving trails of destruction and action in front of me
You better give back what you owe me
I see that you’re still trying to own me
I’m over, you’re all just below me
I’m not any one of your cronies
I’m not any one of your cronies
I’m not any one of your cronies
Quit fucking around like you know me
I’m not any one of your
That was all for a verse I had no idea how to begin yet
Every time I invent, they invest
You might get chin checked
If you try to infect with your bitch threats
You won’t get help from Winstead
You’ll be laughed out the courtroom instead
These are bars from the instant the boof hits
I’m all about true shit
I could cough and they’ll lose it
You put a hole in a kayak and say you’re sinking a cruise ship
We both know you can’t do shit
Just cool it
I’ll send you back to who delivered you
Methods only the villains use
Dress in rags when I do it but glow up nice for the interview
Keyboard warriors get lowered in cases
Show me what tildes do
Put a slash in your bracket
I’ll take the cash ‘til it’s minuscule
Period
You hearing this?
Someone let a femboy be the south shore’s best lyricist?
It’s all about perspective
You shouldn’t take it so serious
I hit the pen and spew cloud rap
Never dropped trash, but I still know how to bounce back
I see that you’re still trying to own me
I’m over, you’re all just below me
I’m not any one of your cronies
I’m not any one of your cronies
I’m not any one of your cronies
Quit fucking around like you know me
I’m not any one of your
Stuck like a bird in a department store
What is the word? Why do these artists forge
Nothing but scorn? That’s not what art is for
Fuck what you heard, I’m ready to start a war
Smoking indica, bumping Indicud
Some would give a one, but I don’t give a fuck
I won’t fuck your bitch, but I can be that bitch you want
To them rockstars kicking fables
I got something you can suck on underneath the table
You’re not a person, you’re a money gadget for the label
There’s nothing in your bank account that you can use to pay dues
Pay due respect to these millions
You just choose your flesh, you ain’t living it
You’re put to the test, you say you’re killing it
But then you forget to be vigilant
I’m seven cases deep in estrogen
This ain’t my last, maybe the next one is
Let me real quick try on whoever’s dress this is
Could be turned on by a fella’s kiss
Lord knows that’s relevant
Lord knows I’m heaven sent
Lord made me this way
And that’s how I’ll stay
You chamber your epithets
My words are Banksy, that’s street art
Your boys looking hard as a sweet tart
You’re losing again, better restart
Your posing’s an act, that’s in three parts
How could I not be the one if I’m the only one of me
Bask in the sun on me
How could I not just blow up leaving trails of destruction and action in front of me
You better give back what you owe me
I see that you’re still trying to own me
I’m over, you’re all just below me
I’m not any one of your cronies
I’m not any one of your cronies
I’m not any one of your cronies
Quit fucking around like you know me
I’m not any one of your
That was all for a verse I had no idea how to begin yet
Every time I invent, they invest
You might get chin checked
If you try to infect with your bitch threats
You won’t get help from Winstead
You’ll be laughed out the courtroom instead
These are bars from the instant the boof hits
I’m all about true shit
I could cough and they’ll lose it
You put a hole in a kayak and say you’re sinking a cruise ship
We both know you can’t do shit
Just cool it
I’ll send you back to who delivered you
Methods only the villains use
Dress in rags when I do it but glow up nice for the interview
Keyboard warriors get lowered in cases
Show me what tildes do
Put a slash in your bracket
I’ll take the cash ‘til it’s minuscule
Period
You hearing this?
Someone let a femboy be the south shore’s best lyricist?
It’s all about perspective
You shouldn’t take it so serious
I hit the pen and spew cloud rap
Never dropped trash, but I still know how to bounce back
( Z the Stranger )
www.ChordsAZ.com