Leverage (feat. KOOL AD + Fat Tony + Lakutis + Nasty Nigel)
All I want is a house and some money to travel A simple game putting letters together like scrabble Sisyphus's lesson crushing the rock into gravel Which of us truly trust how they knocking the gavel? Plus though I be floating around like I'm stocking the ammo Tucking the Glock in the camo Fuck it, I'm lost in the channels Surfing on surfaces, cursing in cursive this shit Hurdling hurdles and hares And turtles aware of the circles and squares To a certain degree A person you certainly see Is certainly, certainly me Or whatever, Kool A.D., Till they pulling the curtain on me I'm Erick Sermon, the generic version, Virtually not, but I'm Parrish too Shut the fuck up, I'll embarrass you, Nah, don't care, I'm so careless my dude Yes I'm aware I'm a fool Sexy and arrogant too Sun in the air to nothing in any apparent view Thought I told you like once or twice you should stare into my raps like Pun once dared us to And we did Who do we kid? Why do we do what we did when we did? Ooh baby ooh baby shit
Groovy You feel me? Sit back, cold beverage, writing leverage
[Lakutis]
Groovy You feel me? Sit back, cold beverage, writing leverage
[Verse 2: Fat Tony] You know me, I don’t need no introduction and shit Girl screaming “Anthony Obi, hold me!” Like she know me, she won’t quit Already got one holding my arm in this But I think I’m bout to add two to the list And I just might add you if you equipped With some good sense, and some good teeth And feeling free like a loose leaf, single sheet On the beat I’m crisp like a Pringle be I’m on 34th Street like Kris Kringle be Just little old merry me, unmerrily Calling up my agent, flagrant, Nigga got me sleeping on the pavement Why the fuck you think I made this wavelength? Ain’t tryna live in my relative’s basement It ain’t easy being meezy, when a measly Hundred dollars lost can make a nigga queasy I need my full fucking feezy Ever since I got grown, left home Been feeling all alone like fish a la carte, bitch this is the start Of me being a meanie to you niggas seeming teeny You stringy like some linguini, thinking that you can see me That seemingly might be easy but you’re quite beneath me You’re stinky like a queef be From a bitch that hasn’t washed for weeks Hoes known to jock you geeks Cause they think you so unique But solely you’re phony and only phoning in when you speak I’m going in on your freak, weekly and reeking of weed Sweetly I’m sealing the deed, revealing just what she need Like honey to bees or chickens to feed Or money to me or A/C to a hundred degrees I smoke nothing but trees, you are nothing to me And while you’re living in dreams I’m reeling in reality
[Verse 3: Nasty Nigel] 59 pounds on the Eurostar in France Business Class feature Sauvignon in the glass I don’t know French Lucy teach it when she speak I study in the bed and I only learned “Oui!" Swimmies in the duffle cause I’m tryna hit the beach And I’m tired of the Rockaways, too ugly for my feet No room for devices, leave it at the beep The only thing magnetic is the hotel key So baby don’t tell me that we living next week Cause I’m feeling this week, life is feeling this sweet What type of feeling this be? what kind of strain is this weed? I know you understand me since we’re on the same beat You can hear the foreign silence ringin as I pen this verse Moleskine with the Star Wars cover, Peroni quench the thirst I ain’t about shit cause I recycle my outfits Dawg, I’m walking on the outskirts of a country unknown 5 Euros a six-pack; Victor is you with that? My eyes rolled to the top, drop while I sit back World’s Fair globe trotter popping on a greater scale In the end might leave it all, that’s word to Christian Bale (Spoiler)