Slacks - BONUS II (APPLE) [Prod....

Slacks is Mr. Sunglasses

The fact is Saturn EP was my last shit

Now pass this out, as a platter for the masses

Fruit Snacks made by Slacks, for Slacks, bitch

 

Top dogs in Raleigh got nothing on me

Had to take some shots to start off this party

I love them, but they ain't start how I'm starting

Stars can develop, but before the bars was hard hardly

I learned rapping from Big Papa, Andre 3-thou, Kendrick Lamar

Eminem, Odd Future, and Black Star

So don't come at me with your purely obscure vinyl stash

I'll never say that it's trash, I just really wouldn't know every last

One of them, but I'm cool with new blasts to the past

Now let me rip it on the mic, this is my existence

Trynna get it to where it is this shit all of the time

I would spend all of my dime, smoke a quarter while I rhyme

Dropping pennies on my thoughts while they drop nickels on my kind

Yeah, you wanna see how I'm living but can't stand how I'm spitting

This abstract like Q-Tip, abstract's how I do it

Abstract is the movement, attract what is fluid

Attack when it's stupid, contrast and congruent

Switch-up, if the past is the future then you gotta shoot it

Get up with your ass, why you so sure that you shouldn't?

Could you tell I'm freestyling?- probably couldn't

Youthful like the spring, youthful that's the thing

Youthful like a fling, before the baby or the ring

Don't ignore this thing, there's no edits

I was writing what I think, then I said it

Now I'm spitting on the brink

Of my mind, on the edge, Barton Fink

With the typewriter, live-wire

Pulled off an all-nighter

And he got the long-lighter

With that get along fire

That we smoke behind the choir

Until it's nothing like my tires

Delivery driver, got the auxilary tired

But I had to make some racks for the beats

And these the ones it had to be

'Cause these the ones I tapped my feet

Made me work my ass off on the street

Made ya boy seem like a freak

Unclean, unkempt, but always fleek

Steady rocking with his speak

Know what I mean?

 

Unh, yeah, alright

 

I love to rip bars with the wickedest visciousness

Interest apart, I been working on my vividness

How to paint a picture, through scripture, no iffiness

To do it looking through light fixtures the trickiness

There's always a big set-up, like we getting played then wet-up

I don't like it, I don't write it plain when I aim the baretta

This is J Cole inspired, holy wired, roley tired type rap shit

The only fire brighter than the choir or the Ivy league hired type rap shit

The looking for the new, to start anew, and start a new wave of rap type rap shit

The crude and rude mood this dude has to bring it back type rap shit

The if I have to make it and pass it, then I have to make it a classic type rap shit

The after the fact it happens people looking forward to my insta post captions type rap shit

They'll be begging for the rations

But still gonna question what the snacks is

You lack this multi-track elastic action

I brag on my latest Slacks attack with a drastic passion

My bars sound like Biggie with the sick fashion

Blunt ashing with the hung-ass-dick

Poking through the robes, smoke going through my nose like a dragon

And I joined the band of flows, so you can go and fuck your wagon

Now just imagine, FlowslackS reunited, rapping with the slacks sagging

With the new cast and crew, and all the bitches tails wagging

They wagging, they wagging

You lagging, I'm back in

I'm rapping, what's happening?

 

Hip-hop is not dead