Untitled Song

Your reign on the block was soft like feather beds,

Talkin’ like a boss but you walk with beggar legs.

I check frauds quick, no bank deposits,

Got her shook like hustlers dodging audit logs, bitch.

Ain’t no half-step, chest out, keep pressing

Fake threats? I bench those, keep flexing

It’s that rap king phenomenon, sound alarm,

I drop Napalm Psalms, burn clicks, drown 'em all.

I’m ten toes, send foes home in a trench coat,

Let the metal wave like the ocean in a vent hole.

I’m worshipped, burn scripts, the verse sick,

You rehearsed it, still sound trash like first spits.

I drop unexpectedly like bad investments,

You stressed, twitching guess the L was destined.

You herbs get taxed quick for racks and deposits,

Turn rap checks to a casket deposit.

No budget, no publishin', dummies get punished,

Talk tough but your whole catalog’s rubbish.

I’m surprised you run with 'em,

Guess they got lungs in ‘em, all they do is suck dick,

And you run with ‘em.

Tryna blow up like fireworks in cold weather,

But the fuse too wet, you ain’t spark shit ever.