Diablo

(альбом: Eternal - 2020)

[GAWNE:]
All my life premeditated
My motive was never stated
Just know that I'm dedicated
Algebraic, keep cool and calculated
You fools get checkmated when I move like a chess player
Nowadays, them "woke" folks gon' expose ya'
They cancel you for the culture
One hashtag and it's over
Ya'll lived your life just to be liked and it's sad
The likes of which will post a pic
And count up likes on the 'Gram
Damn
Used to get slept on daily
But I still kept on
Shits not really finna be okay after we go crazy
Bitch we the G-O-A-T's
Erybody keep on hating
Til' they see me get famous
The switch teams like [?] how they've stopped complaining
Fairweather when it blow
Where'd the real ones go?
Then again I guess I never really get offended
When up on the internet, you get the trolls
I just wanna let 'em know
That I'm about to spitfire
Never misfire, I'm the Messiah
Finna stoke the flames
Like a Boeing plane to a twin tower
I don't really think it's gonna be too fucking difficult
To kill a flow 'cause every time I work up in the studio
I spit it like a missile then obliterate another one of the critics
Who was thinking I wasn't gonna be the only one to win it
Though a minimal I wanna spit in is the equivalent
To what I'm gonna do
When I get up and do the fucking inner workings of Illuminati
I really don't got a human body
And you're never gonna make it to the pinnacle
I swear to god I'm never gonna quit it
Til' I make a fucking living even then I gotta elevate
I'll never slow momentum I disintegrate
Anyone who was thinking I wasn't gonna be the head of state
I penetrated into the game like an examination
Been a menace, yeah, but then again never been a friend of an enemy
I'd rather be adamantly found dead in the Chesapeake
When I be entering the level of Rap God, I'm heavenly
So now what?
What to do?
I don't even know really where to go
How come?
Every time I get up on a track you motherfuckers getting outgunned
'Bout time I get my respect
For the sweats tears and now blood
So that one day I'll be Rushmore
When they put me on top of that mountain

Yo, I'm not a god no
I'm the Diablo
Everyone hates me
They say I'm malo
But maybe tomorrow
I'll rise from my shadow
I guess in the end though
None of it mattered
So I'll never be sorry

[Samad Savage:]
You're 'bout to witness what hell feels like
I can literally hear the sweat leaving your pores when I held the mic
Not pasta, but the chopper "BLAKKA"
Then give you some shells to bite
Then watch all lie quick
Like when you home late and must tell your wife
And I'm thicker then, I sell your light
Watch me shine on 'em (DING!)
I'm a perv ain't mad 'cause I grind on 'em (DING!)
Want parts? Then I put another line on 'em
Say it fast, celebrating the rha-ma-da-in (Ramadan)
In hotels, so I don't respond to them
Wait what was I sayin'? I'm pondering
Voorhees, I could pull up in the pond you're in
And leave your soul haunted like The Conjuring
I was never perfect, I'm a sinner
Heart is colder than a blizzard in the winter of December
Wouldn't go against 'em friendly
But I'm ready to dismember who you thinking is the winner
Treat 'em like I'm a beginner
Like a quarterback you need to know, in fact, I been a stealer
And I'm swiping everybody like my standards low on Tinder
I'ma go attack you little hoes that rap
You're never sicker
Like I told the bitch that bit her
I mean bite her, but you're bitter
That I'm brighter, meaning that I'm lighter
Meaning that I'm lighter, I'm producing fire
They be throwing shade at my head like a visor
I be straight up with the drip, no geyser
But you guys are, liars
Keep saying that you woke but you slept on me tice
Retired is what you should be
Only time you fire is hitting a D
-Ablo, and I know I'm not a god

[GAWNE:]
Yo, I'm not a god no
I'm the Diablo
Everyone hates me
They say I'm malo
But maybe tomorrow
I'll rise from my shadow
I guess in the end though
None of it mattered
So I'll never be sorry

[Vin Jay:]
Finally coming up and man I know the fans love it
The money from the merch is hanging out my damn luggage
I gotta take a break, swear to god I can't stomach
All these instrumentals busting outta my abdomen
Man run it
No wonder when I drop they get mad dramatic
I watch 'em flip over the bars they ain't acrobatic
They say they coming for my spot like they have the talent
I tell 'em that's a long shot, fuck a panoramic
Talking to God, I fiend to release my demons
It's YPG, the most lethal team in the region
If you rappers are my sons, I need to increase the beatings
Either that or stop scheming, and leave my semen in cleavage
Ya'll focused on school, I'm observing the business
My concern was with spitting, never learning division
'Cause I don't plan to split cash, I split words with precision
Til' my music on the streets like them dirt syringes
Come on!