Intro:
Ah Yeah, Cause the last one I had was like 5 songs so..

Verse:
It's that back on my grind flow
I'm in the cockpit you a cockroach
I'll be honest I'm about to go
Off the edge like geronim
Gotta lot to do so pardon me
I'm throwing rappers right off the beat
Man I be hotter than arsonists
That's why your girl got my songs on repeat
I oughta be in that top spot
I will not stop til I cop guap
Like chop chop til my legs crack
And till I got a mil in my bank account
Like yea Young Kids in paris
We stayin flyer than parrots
You can perish if you gotta problem
Cuz we do us it's apparent
And apparently I'm the bomb why because I is real (israel)
Mess around the kid I turn you chickens to kid's meal
I been ill forget ya vaccinations
I'm doin good but they mad and hatin
I'm swaggin out till my head is aching
I'm the one and only you a replication
Murder all my enemies
From NY to tennesee
With tendency to wreck the beat
If you step to me you will rest in peace
Tell ye and jay I got it
Your tank on empty like my pockets
Cuz at the moment I don't make no profit
But think about everything that I could accomplish
I just pick up where I left off
This is how I roll you a wrecked car
Man ima keep flowing my brains out
Till I blow up like a time bomb
Ima rhyme on to the finish
I been tryna make it in the game for a minute
People crowd around when the little kid spit it
Now im making big moves yea its time to get with it
Trick I'm going off like loaded weapons
We goin stupid yea so demented
I run the game like the olympics
And oh yea did I mention
My skin lighter than miley's new hairdue
Claiming that you fly where ya parachute
I step up in the building HATERS I'm doing damage
Chris miles out the cage getting let loose
Ima lit fuse when I start rhyming
Yea I'm big news man I'm headlining
The locnus monster inside of your ipod
Don't close your eye lids
Fix your posture when I speak to you
Yea this is what I'm here to do
Man I have the game on lock and I got the keys
Like alicia do
I'm creaming dudes you should get at me
I'm in ya face like bad acne
Chris Miles is in paris boy
And we goin up like terrodactles
Ya'll cannot battle with this real flow
I f with jacksons like rico
I'm headed to the top, tryna cop some green
Till my pockets fat like celo
Outro:
That ish cray
Ain't it mane
What she order
Oh the waiter hasn't come yet, oh alright