Nerves

(альбом: Scratch Paper - 2018)

Throwing flashbang
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah

Resting my foot on yo' head
I just conquered yo land, had to slaughter yo' clan
Now yo' fans are my fans, abide chain of command
While you swallow them Xans and embarrass yo' parents
You a pinhead nigga, not gonna spare you
My two cents bigger, still chirp like canaries
I FedEx zip-up, something mysterious
Not no drive-by nerve agent wrapped if u curious
Got my eyes wide shut, smoking my blunt
You a roach like my cigarette butt, get put out
Look at what you put out, you a SoundCloud cut-out
Calling yo' hood out
Wallpaper gang members thinking it's good now
Fuck you then pull out
What am I good for?
Sliding my flow in yo' bitch while my wood stroke
Nigga, I could though
Nigga, I'll kick a door
If it's a stick 'em all, don't bring that tattoo gun
Rather stick and poke

I'm asking you, what got you to kill the seven men?
And I'm telling you because the cops let me keep killing them, Nick! Don't you get it?
Not everybody is killing seven people, so there must have been something in you that was getting you to do it!
Oh, you are lost, Nick!
So, explain
I was a hitchhiking hooker
Right

Right where we left off, you acting crisscross
Scrubbing like dish wash, uh, makes me sick
Like blood clots, Chris Bosh
Shoot at three points like Chris Paul
Use your head as a kickoff
This ain't no kids job
Point that shit, spray at the ground
Till you blue in the face while you crip walk
I don't know 'bout you nigga, my shit's hard
I eat these rappers for lunch while I sit far, uh
Away from the crowd cause I know it
I speak like a poet, I don't wanna show it
My actions heroic, they stop, I keep going, uh
Beat yo ass like a favor I owe you
I know I control you, 11 like Ocean, uh
Got my niggas around me, we scoping
I'm peeping, I'm posted like a stamp on that card
You not holding, arriving sometime in the postal