Untitled Song

promise Heron I'll put my fist up after I get my dick sucked

Quick buck, maybe a gold chain

With that fucking flow that s-s-so belittles men

They tentatively tend to turn and go when I am finished

Stone cold, hardly fucking with these niggas, nigga listen

The description doesn't fit, if not a synonym of menace, then forget it

In turn, these critics and interns admitting the shit spit

It just burn like six furnaces writ it

It affixed learning them digits, and simultaneously

"Dispelling one-trick-pony myths, isn't he?"

One adolescent, fucking six-nigga energy

And crawling down fax like a rich nigga centipede

Crack ceramic and slap a hand out of cash account

Stamp and shouting, thrashing, these niggas done let the Kraken out

Crack-a-lackin', like snap, crackle, poppin' your ammo off

Hide your face, and throw your flannels off, Sweatshirt, nigga