No Flockin Flow

(album: Get Twisted Sundays Vol. 1 - 2017)

Kick it, kick it yeah
Get Twisted Sundays
Ain't gon' waste no time, look

This no flocking, this beat rocking
Southwest raised, G mud still popping
The blades still chopping, the babes still bopping
The rap game look like the new slave auction
Can I get the what? Can I get the who?
I flow for the trigger-happy rapping jiggaboos
And those that be itching to clap back and think it's cool
Who pack a SMG but don't work at the ticket booth
Look, no movie
Real raps in my iTunes, no Uzi
Lowkey, Fat fine, but she pose goofy
I keep flow raw, but it's no sushi
Boy I'm on, wipe me down like the old Boosie
Yeah, show them Sim's pair of shoes
Shoutout Sim, he the coldest with the dance moves
Try love, try God and you can't lose
But chop in, I'm a show you what these hands do
Yeah, young Jerm hit me up, said she moving down
Used to ride metro but I'm booming now
I only rap to keep the ratio of cooning down
Don't sleep on me, I got no chill
Every beat I'm on, roadkill
God blessed me with Chi like Rotel
'Cause I ride his coattail
Both my partnas still make dope sales
And they be like 'Oh, well'
Rock so much ice, it look like snow fell
And they move it wholesale
Go tell it on the mountain
This weak well to the people pronouncing
My last name acting like it's a fountain
Of consonants when they making announcements
I'm tired of it, stop it
I do God's work, I'm philanthropic
I keep my bid glistening like a prophet
And Hell, if I ain't the plug then I'm the socket
I swear the whole hood got my back like the chiropractor
'Cause every bar I get it popping like a firecracker
I'm trying to go from Genesis to the final chapter
So whenever the trumpet blow, I survive the rapture
Yeah, yeah, you catch me hang gliding on clouds
Screaming out 'No diggity, no doubt'
Elohim next to me looking Hennessy brown, we both jigging
That's why I'm married to the game, I ain't know different
Used to dream about the slab with the fo's tipping
Back when Twista and Do or Die had me Po' Pimping
Every bar guava, you could see the flow dripping
Yeah, don't touch my drip, let it marinate
That's why I'm good in every hood like a pair of J's
It's the reason every track I'm on, I defecate
Prayer line 5: 30 just to meditate
Me and Fat lowkey looking for a wedding date
I swear I rap for every Piru and Hoover trying to maneuver
Around the barricade at the pearly gates
Let a sin never rest, need a rest haven
Keep it moving, never worry about the steps taken
I give middle fingers to Satan wrestling with God
Demanding every ounce of favor he used to bless Jacob
I'm gone