Ok, Yes indeedy wrote graffiti on the....
yes indeedy wrote graffiti on the bus
and now im on the cusp
ok, so hush.
grown man talk don't interrupt, tell em where you been j, sittin on the cusp
eh yo making all existing stars dust..
trust that we go where no man before
deep as any seashore high off tress, the purple or diesel
my deboat decoys
surrender my peace in a circle of emcees
surrounded by b-boys and killer kali c***fs
my words are like weapons I direct them when I speak
kapish? and kush blunts, kish for lunch
eat rappers like takeout, bout once a week
bout to make it once a month, hibernating in the cut
sleepwalking writing raps dreamin counting bucks
but still bust it free for my peeps when we run
into each other on the street cuz we do it for the love
just to bust over beats, Rhymes, life
and when it gets together dog it sounds so nice. Aint it right
tell Mr Jones it aint dead it just came back home
had to paint black poems for a fake flat world
trying to take back rap like a lost black girl
while the whole world naps in its sunshine showers
sittin on hills countin down final hours
thinkin bout if I ruled the world
and I already got the power.
yeah, but now I'm on the cusp, so hush.
grown man talk don't interrupt, tell em where you been j, sittin on the cusp
making all existing stars dust..
see I found god within me,
now we kick free sippin on a bottle of henesy
blazin christmas trees on the clouds of infinity, blank out and forget
a crowd was with me, forgive me
my energy cant be gangster
i wanted to be a painter but decided i should live a life of danger
remind me pops to thank ya before I c*** the chamber
aiming at top spots and c*** blocking haters,
block, block
My glock shot,right in the heart
cuz one day I got high and mistaked her for a shark
pardon me doc, why is it my artistry rots,
everytime i bring weapons to a broad on my jock
cars on my lot, all my money balled in a knot
would *****s rather hear me rappin bout harvesting crops
probably not, honestly im trying to be dope,
thats being modest, i aint trying to be broke,
thats on my mama, trying to figure out how do we
cope with all this drama when theyres so much room in these sunshine showers\
yes indeedy wrote graffiti on the bus
and now im on the cusp
ok, so hush.
grown man talk don't interrupt, tell em where you been j, sittin on the cusp
eh yo making all existing stars dust..
trust that we go where no man before
deep as any seashore high off tress, the purple or diesel
my deboat decoys
surrender my peace in a circle of emcees
surrounded by b-boys and killer kali c***fs
my words are like weapons I direct them when I speak
kapish? and kush blunts, kish for lunch
eat rappers like takeout, bout once a week
bout to make it once a month, hibernating in the cut
sleepwalking writing raps dreamin counting bucks
but still bust it free for my peeps when we run
into each other on the street cuz we do it for the love
just to bust over beats, Rhymes, life
and when it gets together dog it sounds so nice. Aint it right
tell Mr Jones it aint dead it just came back home
had to paint black poems for a fake flat world
trying to take back rap like a lost black girl
while the whole world naps in its sunshine showers
sittin on hills countin down final hours
thinkin bout if I ruled the world
and I already got the power.
yeah, but now I'm on the cusp, so hush.
grown man talk don't interrupt, tell em where you been j, sittin on the cusp
making all existing stars dust..
see I found god within me,
now we kick free sippin on a bottle of henesy
blazin christmas trees on the clouds of infinity, blank out and forget
a crowd was with me, forgive me
my energy cant be gangster
i wanted to be a painter but decided i should live a life of danger
remind me pops to thank ya before I c*** the chamber
aiming at top spots and c*** blocking haters,
block, block
My glock shot,right in the heart
cuz one day I got high and mistaked her for a shark
pardon me doc, why is it my artistry rots,
everytime i bring weapons to a broad on my jock
cars on my lot, all my money balled in a knot
would *****s rather hear me rappin bout harvesting crops
probably not, honestly im trying to be dope,
thats being modest, i aint trying to be broke,
thats on my mama, trying to figure out how do we
cope with all this drama when theyres so much room in these sunshine showers\