The Memo

Looked like pasta cast a charm on the fella

Saw em paired like storms and umbrellas

Met him, they said, he done lost his step

I’m the crew's connect

Uh, so hit that jam

A million dollars to target plans

I live among comets, and don’t need a visa stamp

These accolades via starcraft boost my rep

Ignore the pull, I order steps

I got the image that you neglect

You can announce that on the set

Touching the summit while you ain’t even crept

I got rocket grade trades, cause I’m adept

All them contracts fake unless it’s fate’s

I got the code to the safe

Your idols probably caught that hit like a Celtic net

Break this script, it’s like wordsmithin’

Someone gotta carry this torch, I’d take that risk

That’s your cost if you ain’t staged for this

Verses sizzling till your plastic drip, your flesh vanish

You lack leverage, stress hectic, inject the frantic

My motion balanced, checks in motion like a math planner

I ain’t slipping even if you tossed a ripe banana

You probably still puzzling it, still stuck average

Detective with an extra flare, I was graced with it

Need risers, still can’t step to my prime matters

These try hard spitters hold soaked bladders

365, arrive live, you a fool dude, dude

Past globe, sky, cosmos, primed to explode through

Flip the rhyme files, Double-O style, reaching wide bounds

Disruptions out the way, Mega-mode, pow!

Upgrade your doubters to shouters and roll out

Seats maxed out, different folks house

I pitch these quotes out, no drought

Yeah, I’m snapping now, blowing amps out

Swinging at your neckpiece, breath gone when you owe me

Each cut I’m on I’m sharp, don’t ever probe me

Shoes tapping automatic, that’s what’s it till I’m graphic

Bracket zone, Trackavores, loops only classic

Global focal point, not even legends could poster me

I see the trail in front me, act like you heard of me

Actin' like the grind’s just snacks and macaroni

Bent bills, split deals, these cats is phony

They been stamped, them ones you kneel beside trust

Straighten his frame if he bent, fifty lined up

Crack your spleen and tuck you deeper than a sunken being

Me and twin, two man hotter than the sauna be

I get the chuckle last, you get it at half mast

No wonder I feel like a dump sack, glad

Still jacking, still yapping, still passing weak fabric

Tools sharper in present tense, these rap dudes

Tools past grim, real pitch black, back when we was still laughing

When you were shadowboxing, I was flame blasting

Mute the true passion, back when the grooves was smashin’

Aimed at the biz, cause the truest damage in the loot transactions

Turn you mic brawlers into true captions, but the truest action