The wrath of my verses.
Pocket racked up all big faces
Creatively writing verses, basically spitting sermons,
Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns
Have you got talent? ambition? skill beyond verses?
I'm tryna follow money, she tryna fall in love
Blind fucking hate inside my heart, guaranteed
Murder verses bursts of furnace heat
A lovely outer surface
And spit the wise verses,
And i ain't frontin for her
Well we start the fire
I'm not even fucking joking i don't play around in verses
But i pray these everlasting groupies don't fuck up this love
Rap hero but wasn't nicer, prior
Your on fire.. your on fire
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