Notes

Y'all heard, sit the fuck back down
It's that suburban kid with the cardboard crown,
drawn out round,
from some unclout company clowns,
whose number one decision is to spread and smile. Heh

Sage kept on running, raisin hunneds,
killers love me, feelin funny,
ill with money, math-
matic with the beats,
I repeat, no defeats, breaking some feet,
with the voluptous feats.
Sick over shots, throw those hands,
get those bands, take your fans,
run back to the studio and do it again.
Beat harder than how my story began,
and where yours ends. Find my stance,
and break your amps, while you crumble.

Slick talk through the huddles,
Back track to the jungle,
beats harder than these mumble rap,
bitches whose girls drainin for scared money,
no worries I'll take em honey bunny.
Tarantino couldn't judge me,
for bringing Pulp friction to the game,
flow is richer than my name,
sacred pitches, I'm so insane.

I'm fucking you harder than my baby Sherane,
Kendrick inspired to bring fire to flame,
Good kid m.a.a.d city, made that shit insane,
made me aware of how fucked up the game is.