[INTRO] hey, hey, hey hey, just display a rhyme skill man thats what it is 92 till infinity and beyong, heh heh, and beyond alright look, mothafuckas still rap, BEYOTCH
When I was fifteen, it was my dream to work with pream he believed in what i do so now hes makin this beat and im writin these rhymes, makin sure that i kill it shinin like im a critic (or Cyrillic) the government can’t conceal it my style they try to steal it cus people startin to feel it im goin on these adventures somethin like on a field trip and now im growin up lookin around this planet some shit be goin on and i just can’t understand it no need to panic i got to expand it a million downloads im takin over your bandwidth moments all can did kodak reminisin go back, life feel good want yall to know that don’t have no dill and no half a mill just on my game start shit with a mass appeal go platinum, independently, incredibly dope you needa tell a scope to come and get at me and maybe i could see to label my identity they see my middle finger shut the FUCK up and let me be thats how its always been and how it will be filthy ass rhymes makein money but im still me flippin the mics, spittin this nice, never could get everything that i like (now i can copy) no matter the price fuck if you get it im rappin for life you can’t tell me shit, i got my own mind, its six in the morning and now its go time
[CHORUS]
had to take the beat and let it breath usin up the oxygen the kid he go rockin and there aint nobody to stoppin him poppin up (Balls on balls) you see me stockin up workin every second of the day and still not enough now on that cocky stuff want yall to acknowledge us if you don’t suck my dick bitch esophagus you probably just go all on the internet see a conversation and you feel the need to interject i ain’t finished yet you dont think this kid a threat im on the lose end find me supervision yet you an mp3 im still in a set, vintage yet futuristic with some shit that split your dick my cadence complex rhyme without a concept, atomic bombs your just a stupid fake bomb threat six in the morning and im writing these rhymes workin hard so that you know every night is a rhyme, fine