Justen bebar's lyrical rhymed papers
It's 14 racks, what i put on that purse
It's the wolf gang, wolf gang
Lyrical click clack bang
A lyrical gargantuan
Dub a.l.e., still a son of a gun
Our pinnacle's unthinkable miracles,
My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks
Showing my lyrical skill and lyrical power,
Dripping cold blood like the winter, the summer
You'd predict we're a bunch of miracles.
Hasheem thabeet and various other peoples
They feel right, these lyrical miracles 'cause i feel like
She in colors and shit, she off that northern lights, right
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