Mickey Factz
Double XL

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
And I never came down from the last time
But that don't mean nothing, n***as still climbing
B*t*hes popping bottles and they sipping pink diamonds
I took a break from the game and I seen these n***as clowning
The blogs wouldn't be the same if you took Spitta out it
Props to the ones who instrumentally getting me popping
Balling without first learning the fundamentals, forget about it
Tryna 360 up the middle, you ain't even learn to dribble
Twiddling my thumbs smoking lime
Watching hamster a** rappers running wheels going nowhere with their rhymes
Stuck, Glenn Robinson big dog bus, socks up, top down, killing squares, riding around
Coolest n***a in yo city, even when I'm not in town
Smoking like I signed for 50 million and I'm underground
Yeah, uh
Smoking like I signed for 50 million still underground

[Verse 2: J-Lie]
And who we are, flow away above all, see
If I didn't rap I still look like a star, just admit, you know
You can spot me from afar, no big diamond chain that was so old for
Just a mention going up, it's nothing that I fire
Put the ladies sleeping over, slumber parties every night
Get your flights from … sending me all over
Bring me to the club, cause all the b*t*hes like
What other rapper you know can call from Dakota, anger ...and call from a favor
And Brooklyn and Queens cause they got I'm a king
Avoiding tattoos, ...take the music …
My kicks so is fresh no scuffs from the ground, this n***a's too fly, can't get scuffs from the clouds
This ain't even my city but sh*t might as well, that's why me and spitta sold out ATL

[Verse 3: Mickey Factz]
Jet setter, I've been iller, causing vendettas with all of you Ben Stillers
These little f**kers hate my endeavors, time for men sweaters under chinchillas
Trend setter, kick killer my feet wear caskets
Fresh to death and rare gla**es, the bomb bottles, rose petals and Ford models
Who all follow my Twitter and still sword swallow
DM me, got him in the frenzy, it's all about the benjies
I'm feeling like the kembe, block haters stop player I'm so clean
My pockets love the earth baby they go green
Sitting back in that cold thing, wanna rock the mic but she don't sing
Messing with the flow king, kiss the gold ring, pucker up b***ercup, or knuckle up to these punch lines that uppercut
[Verse 4: Kendrick Lamar]
Chillin in my teepee, no indian but he be
The realest sh*t I must admit I'm baskin in my feces
My style is harder, yours is watered down they call it fiji
The bible or my CD, both of them were said to be the
Formula to live your life, or coping with the ills
No time to play kid, I think you needs to chill
House party with killers, pray for Italy villas
Where accents think it's Buffy and chandeliers hang from ceilings
I'm dreaming, I'm scheming to be major
Compose art like a Mozart, the sequel to Amadeus, today is
The day I see the sun, ignoring all the rain
The fat lady has sung, octaves as high as planes
Paper bout the forest tree, acres of that THC
I don't smoke but homies do, find the cloud and have a seat
And I wonder how ... live to see 80
I just wanna see Mercedes give me head in Mercedes