131 Puns / Hiatus Message

run the check, run, run, check bounced, son

flip the script, done, done, this the last one

gun like tongue like a cannon, bum ba bum bum

city gon' hum, hum, hum when the cash come

131 puns, numb, numb, feel the blast, numb

and he got the last laugh

little bitty break feelin' like a century passed

give em a week and they actin' brand new, plastic ass staff

 

yo body yellin' ceasefire, demanded a ransom

not stressin' no loss, just stackin' the anthem

yall rent space inside your own head, abandoned the phantom

claim king but your crown look like foil from a random

sandwich shop, stop my presence alone split wigs

your whole squad move weight, barely lift bricks

seen em sweat bullets tryna count up a quick six

fingers trembling harder than a detox clinic fix

this aint poetry club, aint recitin' no sonnets

this that gutter gospel, preachin' straight from the pockets

empty, then vanish. my hiatus aint no bonnet

curling up weak like im sharpenin' rockets

leftovers yall feasting on thats last weeks trash compactor

return of the tack, the whole blocks benefactor

 

run the check, run, run, check bounced, son

flip the script, done, done, this the last one

gun like tongue like a cannon, bum ba bum bum

city gon' hum, hum, hum when the cash come

131 puns, numb, numb, feel the blast, numb

and he got the last laugh

little bitty break feelin' like a century passed

give em a week and they actin' brand new, plastic ass staff

 

aight, pause. seven days vanishin', puff of the chronic

not duckin' no smoke, just rebuildin' the tonic

for the venom I spit yall pretend to be chronic?

your whole flow got more holes than a discount colonic

authentic, seen more facade on a movie lot

your struggle bought wholesale, straight out the consignment shop

i dissect the fake with the glee of a kid poppin' tops

off sodas he shook up watch the pressure just drop

no metaphors about foundations or chiselin' stone

just straight observation yall standin' alone

when the beat hit the bone, who the crowd really groan for?

the ghostwriter special or the one holdin' his own war?

this aint see ya later weak, its strategic retreat

like ali rope a dope, let the suckas repeat

their wack ass routines then im back on my feet

with the meanest left hook that the game ever meet

watch the throne get vacated without any heirs

come back to the sound of them whisperin' prayers

that I stay gone. too bad. the nightmare appears

with fresh clips for the ears. buck fifty right here