This is a song about "Caslon font"

I be the godly demi who wants moore supply

Keep your eyes open, i can only say i'll try

Some type of competition

Go where you ain't been

Fuckin nazi, this crowd ain't your type

Studio fifty four if we get the props right

They listened to this lies that the history book told them, riddled mystery,

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

That's a little math joke, for you slow type

And just for that, i'mma blow 25 tonight

Money back on my mind

For inspiration, my kind

Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service

Brooklyn boy get plenty love, on the turnpike with my philly broad

He's part mystery and the other half's a lyrical juggernaut