Ab-Soul
Back At It
[Verse 1: Ab-Soul]
Ayy, back at it
The recipe, I have it
Ya destiny I control it
Don’t make this static a habit
I’m hip-hop, you a rabbit
But 8 Mile was a classic
I manifest, you imagine
You ain’t cut from this fabric
Was burnin rubber in traffic
With King, Richard, and Magic
On a mission to get it, twist the swisher and lit it
I (puff puff) then I passed it
Literature was my passion
Ain’t hide the 9 in my fashion but I’m a rhyming assassin
I saw the target and hit it, every bar was acidic
Way before I did acid I found the apple and bit it
Just cause they said it’s forbidden, that's what made it attractive
I had to
Earn a living, not a urn with my ashes my n***a

[Chorus]
I’m back at it

[Verse 2: ICECOLDBISHOP]
Uh, look
My mama crazy, my mind went crazy
First to use the throw away cause I’m courageous
Knew you was bitch I saw the future I’m so Raven
I watched my closest homie die up on that pavement
So when we go double back we gone make sure that we shoot where your troubles at
Was born in the dungeon was raised in the ghetto it wasn’t no love in that
She fucked all the homies I fucked on her too but it wasn’t no love in that
It wasn’t no
It wasn’t no
It wasn’t no
It wasn’t no trust on that bitch but I love on that bitch cause I’m infatuated with devils
Was never no killa but when it came to it I’m probably the one that’s gone pick up the shovel
I’m probably the one that’s gone pick up the shell cases
Hell raising, young miscreant
Young n***a government benefits
My Glock on me so I’m innocent
And let a muhfucka know
[Chorus]
I’m back at it

[Verse 3: Kembe X]
My heritage is pipes and needles, my DNA faded
So your dope don’t really phase us, don’t know how else I could phrase it
Environment been morphing us, we tapped into the matrix
Don’t pick the wrong cross to die on, don’t feel like Jesus gone save us
Please save all of the back and forth my n***as is thirsty for action, uh
We’ll go there if you askin for, they swear that violence the answer, uh
Folks is bored, testing me put a dot on you like multiple choice, uh
Slidin' as quiet as whispers, ain’t got no time to be raising his voice, uh
Let me switch the subject so I don’t feed brodie ego
This time next year we be in New Zealand eating fried flamingo, uh
No broads in Atlanta but got plugs in the OC
How I handlin' my doe is low just keep that shit lowkey, uh
Wide mouth, vacuum sealer, busy body, hit my Wick'r, not my line
Taxing please fill out ya W-9’s, uh
I’m my father dealer reincarnated
Pushin that purina, he got to it ‘fore the dog ate it, bitch

[Outro]
I’m back at it
I’m back at it