Pre-Verse:

Alright
Alright
Alright
Now what they call me?
I said it one more time for y'all ears
What they call me?
Alright, listen
Look
I said I'm

Verse:
Black America's idol
Don't be misunderstood
They stay holding my balls
I guess they just Carry Under Wood
The team is famous
You brainless to think we never could
Blessed in all designer
Shit
Even my Jay's Hollywood
Man that's my brother
Discover divine thinking
We been elevated
Not off the liquor that y'all drinking
While you cheering from the stands
We swinging all nine innings
We melting infernos
Defying our minds thinking
It's been devastating
Before this Money
Life was hella basic
Now what y'all would call a large garage
Is a smaller basement
My summer knights
Unsheathing swords
Knockin pen to pavement
Royalty made 1999
I'll let your mind place it
And I ain't talkin like my father C Breezy
Even if my bars and moves are nice
And make it seem easy
Or even if my singing voice
Got women all dreamy
Eyed
Like
Oh my God
I pray that Dezzy D see me
They mans is out there
Wildin
Steady tryna be me
My money's all clean
While you make it hella greasy
Why?
Man what these n***as so sour for?
You tryna be like me?
Your bars weak
Mine are powerful
Connecting with your girl
I got her stretching like a power cord
Way before I'm in it
Shorty wetter than the shower floor
Eat her groceries
Clean up out on isle 4
You know my word is law
So why this even go to trial for?
From 19
That 96 what I represent
Trust My bars are vintage
Rap game SEGA genesis
Blow me like You tryna fix the game
But you splitting it
And trust I never start the beef with n***as
I just finish it
Shhh
Close your eyes
When you listening
I got em gassed up
While they been coolin at the dealership
Tell me I'm garbage
Really speaking like I give a shit
This verse here
The scene of the crime
Listeners witnesses
Now
My age group I got the crown
Never wear mine
Seasons change up
Fall back
Lebron Hairline
Career's crashing
Southwest
Not the air line
Cuz that implies y'all got up off the ground
That's a damn lie
Y'all barely got
What half a second
Called it air time
My brothers bars
Will blow em up
Just higher than a land mine
Whack rappers making "vibe music"
Cuz they can't rhyme
Keep it old school
Like a rolodex or landlines
The mans trying
Just moving about in silence
Sad that rappers die young
Overshadowed by sirens
AG
Lor Scoota
Swipey
Victims of the violence
That so many just ignore
Until they kids are dying
But
What can I say
In every bars a hidden message
Both could go either direction
Cross once
That's an intersection
You pass the rock to someone else
Man that's an interception
But then they doubt me
Hate and every time I move they question
Useful as some used condoms
Or Youtube comment sections
I pray this drop
It stack views
And gain a lot attention
I Got em praising
Blue checks in my Twitter mentions
I've good intentions
I'm something that y'all ain't never seen
Eyes of God is coming
I promise its worth it
Wait and see
XXL bars
I'll teach the class of 2017
Complained about these artists
Claiming they pretend to be
Real
They gain appeal
And work the fame
Rap secondly
Got the audacity
To try and clap back
Here's a rap hack
Tryna fix your image
Fix it lyrically
Y'all focus on
Staying street
That's my inner g
Then they try to cover whack lines
With they energy
The Rap God's
Mad as fuck
That's why they sending me
Delete the age of meaningless rappers
Who were never meant to be
And see
I'm upper echelon
Never get to me
You rock designer
With two eyes
You lack the vision see
Cuz while I'm speaking with my chest
Like the best
Y'all will cower in a corner
Pass notes
Chatting whispering
I'll kick a free
In place of bars I'd barely written in
Play this in the whip
Side effects include blistering
Melting of the speakers
Headphones
Where you listening
Look a shooting star
While I fire off a pistol clip
This off top
Like a graduation cap
Throw it up and shmoney dance
Like I want my homie back
And if you don't think we do it
Fuck it bring it back
Said if you don't think we do it
I said
We bring it back
Saying
Got everybody in the 313
To put they motherfuckin hands up
And follow me
At B-y D-E-Z-M-O-N-D
Now keep your motherfuckin hands up
Look
Listen
Mobb Deep
The infamous lyrical mystery
White Amerika's Nightmare
Lowkey living in infamy
This Hell on Earth
My feet are burning
Flames are singeing me
They got me shackled
Blood Money
It's tryna get to me
My bars are made to kill
Murder Muzik
Y'all ain't shit to me
Lines are color blind
Black and White Cocaine
And Word to Cobaine
I'm like Houdini
I'm a mystery
Y'all get the point?
I can go on and on
It's like my verse'll knock you out
Just like some chloroform
And word is bond
So know your place
And When you heard this song
And trust
I stay consistent
With this rap attack
I'm just a
Young brother rapping
Has to Rap
And Imma prove that I can back my facts
And stay flexing each and every track
Like number 8 Kobe Bryant
With the prime time Shaq
And Imma win it like its back to back to back
And stop rapping
Got it
D