My rhymes propellers, words my instrument
Secret society all we ask is trust
Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense
To have my name engraved is my crave till my grave x2
I hate rap like kramer hate blacks
My shit thigh like my bootstraps
That bitch was racist, got me fired
My shirt, purple label my shirt
He in bootcamp, you on food stamps
Got my head in my hands.
No fx, in these doper than sess sessions son
Weres my opinion, whats my religion,
The watch cost me 2; your bitch, free
My own unknown is my enemy,
My home girl told me i got an issue
Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------
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