[Intro: Mick Jenkins + sample]
Uh
I still fuck with type-beats off—
"Let that shit breathe right there, man
I want people to think about that shit for a second
Mick Jenkins—give that man a round of applause—"

[Verse]
Uh
I still fuck with type-beats off YouTube
Like, fuck the who's who
Of producers that you used to
May think I'm loco
Every L just start a lesson, blessings by the bookoo
Common sense just not that common, cop the Gucci Coco
Common projects from the projects to that luxury lame shit
Just a fancy high rise man, its really the same shit
I'm ducked off the pills and speaking Spanglish
We don't wave no banners star spangled, there's too much anguish
In recent history, no mystery here
Bring the froggy feelings, fuck a foggy memory
I'm Mister be clear, as crystal
Even my momma copped a pistol
I need the shotty, through your body
Like a chill, we don't know no chill
Uppercuts to your grill on my George Foreman
Animals with me like I'm George Orwell
You been forewarned boy, I'm brainstorming
I'm up late, no James Corden, no camcorders
They never see you when you work this hard
They always see you, when you don't work enough
I play my cards, let you work the bluff
I Curtis Snow’d-ed those curtains up
The show is live
These sad boys got y'all perkin' up
I'm getting sicker can't you see me coughin' verses up
Only a few games until my flu game
Six figures in a hole, I was Saddam Hussein
This time last year back in the black
And now I stack, rinse, and repeat
Ain't missed a beat
Huh
Might miss a few meals to cook up some heat
You know how it be
[Produced by MisterMojo]