Verse 1:
Check
I don't need nobody respect
I'm not tryna impress I'm just tryna get the cheque
My best?
You niggas ain't seen nothing yet
Watch me murking all these niggas without doing my best
But it's murky water
You moving funny I got a burner
I'm like Timmy Turner
My rap fairy at every corner
But you just learner
Any mistake, you bring dishonour
But it's just like knife through butter
I make it better
I follow every letter
Metal to the pedal
I won't be 2nd best because I never settle
For less
You get?
It's not really a riddle
You niggas mediocre always chilling sofa
While I'm making my flow colder
Round the clock, a roller coaster
From 9 to 5 a day job
No fake boy
Don't phase boy
Dedication in every single verse and every chorus
You always talking bout the rain but not who makes it pour
Verse 2:
Nobody wants to put the boy on a track because if they send they a verse they know it'll be attack
This was the case of an artiste who said he's better than me
But two months later this nigga still running from me (run run run)
It's not a big deal but then it's bothering me
If I keep on killing niggas who's gon be featuring me?
I'm just kidding
Cause truth be told I'm still winning
Ask your favourite rapper why he's still in his feelings
But I'm giving 'em lyrical rap
And I'm hooked on this shit like it's miracle crack
When I give 'em my shit, it's a panic attack
Maybe Mace didn't tell you his homie can rap
I done made some mistakes but they still got my back
And to all of my dawgs, know I still got your back
But I'm steady on rapping and ripping and tapping and tipping to make sure these niggas don't get in they feelings
But I'm Hella reminiscin
Tryna paint a vision
Lyrical mind is a mental prison
When they killed homie, men, I really miss him
And I really kinda wish the bullet missed him
They be killing the boys on the television
And they celebrating 'bout the independence
So I'm steady rapping, ripping, tapping and tipping to make sure these niggas don't get in they feelings
I'm stacking this paper til it get to the ceiling
It's dirty money cause I get it from killing these niggas on records
They all in they feelings
I done it so much now they call me a menace
I swing at these niggas and I don't mean tennis
And I really mean it when I say nor a ceiling fan or single fan or AC that's crazy can keep the flow as cool me
Check
I don't need nobody respect
I'm not tryna impress I'm just tryna get the cheque
My best?
You niggas ain't seen nothing yet
Watch me murking all these niggas without doing my best
But it's murky water
You moving funny I got a burner
I'm like Timmy Turner
My rap fairy at every corner
But you just learner
Any mistake, you bring dishonour
But it's just like knife through butter
I make it better
I follow every letter
Metal to the pedal
I won't be 2nd best because I never settle
For less
You get?
It's not really a riddle
You niggas mediocre always chilling sofa
While I'm making my flow colder
Round the clock, a roller coaster
From 9 to 5 a day job
No fake boy
Don't phase boy
Dedication in every single verse and every chorus
You always talking bout the rain but not who makes it pour
Verse 2:
Nobody wants to put the boy on a track because if they send they a verse they know it'll be attack
This was the case of an artiste who said he's better than me
But two months later this nigga still running from me (run run run)
It's not a big deal but then it's bothering me
If I keep on killing niggas who's gon be featuring me?
I'm just kidding
Cause truth be told I'm still winning
Ask your favourite rapper why he's still in his feelings
But I'm giving 'em lyrical rap
And I'm hooked on this shit like it's miracle crack
When I give 'em my shit, it's a panic attack
Maybe Mace didn't tell you his homie can rap
I done made some mistakes but they still got my back
And to all of my dawgs, know I still got your back
But I'm steady on rapping and ripping and tapping and tipping to make sure these niggas don't get in they feelings
But I'm Hella reminiscin
Tryna paint a vision
Lyrical mind is a mental prison
When they killed homie, men, I really miss him
And I really kinda wish the bullet missed him
They be killing the boys on the television
And they celebrating 'bout the independence
So I'm steady rapping, ripping, tapping and tipping to make sure these niggas don't get in they feelings
I'm stacking this paper til it get to the ceiling
It's dirty money cause I get it from killing these niggas on records
They all in they feelings
I done it so much now they call me a menace
I swing at these niggas and I don't mean tennis
And I really mean it when I say nor a ceiling fan or single fan or AC that's crazy can keep the flow as cool me
( Tuboy )
www.ChordsAZ.com