Untitled Song

 

Uh, I'm sorry for your loss

It's a body dead in the car and it's prob'ly one of yours

The writing all across the window and the walls

Whether it was true or false, we shouldn't have got involved

Remember, we walked past the teacher, take the chalk and laugh

We wrote punishments: "I will not talk in class."

Now it's pistols punishin' people for talkin' fast

And all these innocent bystanders is haulin' ass

I hate to say I told y'all, but I told y'all

Things fall apart when the center too weak to hold y'all

I'm just collectin' what you owed to my old jawn

You 'bout to get swooped down on and stoled on

Fools swear they wise, wise men know they foolish

Well, we was headed for the web, even before computers

I never thought you'd give me a reason to do this

Cain and Abel, Jesus and Judas

Caesar and Brutus, I see intruders, avert your eyes

I told you keep out of the hood: circumcise

How could you sleep? I thought you always was the first to rise

Ayo, you heard the line, "Everybody plays the fool"?

Well, I'll be that exception to the rule

The principal that hand-deliver lessons to the school

I was makin' major moves, my dollar déjà vu

My mission when my ambition was brandishin' a tool

To be a icon, wearin' slippers made of python

Get mine quicker 'cause I'm slick as a pipeline

Transportin' the oil, tribulation and toil

Hit the operation, but I'm back in the soil

Got my crown tilted, my gown quilted, silk with cashmere

Burnin' Rome down in a minute, built it last year

Newsflash, I dodged the bullet that killed the cashier

My homie told me to come with him to the masjid

Them brothers said, "Don't go from written bars filled with rage

To primetime television and your gilded cage

Then forget there's people in the world still enslaved."

I barbwired my wrist and let it fill the page

Gun fire and flares, sirens glare

I'm in a iron chair where people who care don't get the lion's share

When I don't give a fuck then I ain't fair

I'm on a higher tier with people gettin' money like the financier

Catch the herald, I'm fresh chopped and beveled

Rap on a doctorate level, so F. Scott Fitzgerald

Maybe I'm the new Rakim, maybe I'm fat Pharaohe

Undergarments of armor be my intimate apparel

Pre-Kardashian Kanye, my rhymeplay immaculate

Same cadence as D.O.C. pre-accident

Maybe my acumen's on par with Kool G. Rap and them

Give me the proper respect, mothafucka, we back again

For a couple things we lost in a fire

The drive, the desire to perform on a higher

Plateau, I'm at that show lost in a mire

Wonderin' how we got so far from inspired

Look, when photos were sepia-toned

And record players were somethin' you would keep in your home

Yo, the traveler, the meaning of Tariq he was known

For the exemplary performance uniquely his own

I made the twenty-one pound for some a newfound religion

Where money's put down, it's only one sound that make

OGs and young lions equally proud to listen

The secret amalgamism, a algorithm

Comin' from where only kings and crowns permitted the darkness

Where archaeologists found my image in parchment

Rolled into a scroll, holdin' a message for you

It said, "The only thing for sure is taxes, death and trouble."

The anomaly sworn solemnly, high snobbidy

Freakonomics and war policy, dichotomy

That's Heaven and Hades, Tigris and Euphrates

His highness, the apple of the Iris to you ladies

As babies we went from Similac and Enfamil

To the Internet and fentanyl

When all consent was still against the will

I got that detox for y'all

The microphone doctor, black Deepak Chopra

I'm a griot that make you wanna peacock your arm

Every heavy dignitary payin' me top regards

Boy, I'm three optics far from your binoculars

So that smart money finna get the heat out the car

Yo, I'm K.Dot Lamar meets 2Pac Shakur

Got profiled by a few cops, too hot to charge

Listen, somebody said a price tag was on a rapper's head

So we gon' see a nice bag when a rapper dead

The mask black, the flag green, black and red

They'll probably wave a white flag after plasma shed

No doubt, yo the game went they own route

I can't explain what these lame kids is talkin' 'bout

Or how they fit they whole foot into they own mouth

I put a couple bodies in a brown bag, then I'm en route

I'm sneaker shoppin' with my son, a size 8

Prior to they release 'cause why wait?

Look, in my estate I got electrified gates

For these blasé guys hatin' at a high rate

'Cause I dodged fate, then got great, the fly's straight

If we ain't family or friends then we don't vibrate

And I'm that gun in y'all face, none of y'all safe

If I catch you at the right time in the wrong place

Slippin', sippin' on somethin' with a strong taste

Like Whiskey or bootleg Bourbon with a corn base

My Levante resemble a vehicular threat

The mic I spray resemblin' the sickle of death

It ain't strenuous to come from a continuous breath

I set fire to the venue, I'ma spin you and step

Rinse, repeat, you checkin' for the sound of the beast

I'm the hound, I'ma creep, I get down, I'ma eat

I'ma keep somethin' to lay a naysayer to sleep

Playin' with heat, nobody and nothin' fuckin' with 'Riq

Yo, these weaklings is claimin' they cuttin' up in the street

Nigga peace, you ain't workin' with nothin' but the police

Listen, you ain't finna be nothin' but the deceased

Listen, you in interment with a permanent crease

I strike fear in the hearts of rap figures

Who mind bare the stigmas of time, no black privilege

From boom bap niggas to trap niggas

You in the trap with us, when the lines is as vivid

As the walls on the graph, autographed by the Lord of Wrath

I reside between the seconds on the chronograph

How much more CB4 can we afford?

It's like a Shariah Law on "My Cherie Amour"

How much hypocrisy can people possibly endure?

But ain't nobody workin' on a cure, my young bull

Y'all just regular, I'm an apex predator

Brim stay fresh, feathered up, etcetera

Nevertheless, I got a message and left

One dead messenger, yep

My pen is Henry Kissinger, Buzz Bissinger

Look, my caporegime is to no redeem

And my oldest son Ahmir Saleem out of New Orleans

Took a golf cart to the Baccarat from the Waldorf

What was on the wall? That depend on what you call art

I'ma say 300k ain't even in the ballpark

I charge more just for awkward small talk