Drivin and typin, not payin attention, missin they next exit
And i grew up poor with no cash flow in the country, you ain't even know it,
Rapper you know has a flow so heavenly
But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see
I don't even know but yo his flow is kinda sick, shit....
Maserati’s my birthright car, pass it, i need another hit
Ill bag you like groceries i flow ferociously
Prolly cause them niggas wasn't near me, clearly
Wale and k'naan, they don't know is there radio
I go hard fo sho mad flow now you know.
Calamity, profanity, buddha dreams, insanity. where'd it go? how i know how to flow?
Tell me i ain't god's son, nigga mom a virginwe got evicted had to leave the burbs, back in the ghetto
Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that
I got a sick flow and i show it all on the shows, you ain't even know it,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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