Untitled Song

I used to get played, now I’m playing like a hype man

I don’t write plans, just vibes in my right hand

Speak to life with the notepad from a tilted mic stand

No scam likely, I’m rightly the nice man

But burn you on a track just as cool as an ice fan

They say I’m lacking, but really I’m just backspin

Tapped in, while half of y’all just acting

Rapping like it a passion, I’m gas with no traction

Sleeping on me? You’ll wake up without a mattress

My status ain't static, it's magic — no hat tricks

bitch you can’t match this, you black wack bastard

got a problem with me you get your ass kick