This that 2700 shit
This that I don't give a fuck 'bout what you throwin' up
Or what your colour is
Ain't no dodgin' potholes when you're rolling through Ferry
Might just put a couple in your stomach if you're actin' scary
And that's just with the bars; don't talk to me about no bullets
I got many ties to make sure I'm never the one to pull it
As I should- you think I shouldn't
Doin' what you niggas couldn't
Reppin' Northside to the fullest
'Cause I'm bougie and I'm hood, bitch
The words are a practical Mac
I'm a rapping assassin on the track
Nah I'm never lackin' like opps who be laughin'
Followed by the cappin'
I swear their heads are so big
Must be filled with all of that gas that they claim they're smokin'
Y'all ain't smoke shit
Who rollin' up?!
Flow is like a Rover truck
Y'all cannot afford a single portion in this dosage but
I'm in veins- got you going insane in the membrane
This energy's something you cannot sustain or explain
This for my niggas the same colour as a blunt wrap
Insufficient pigmentation won't create a comeback
In this fabricated nation- all we really need's a lorax
The trees we puff could turn you into snorlax off an Advil PM
It is not adequate to advocate for yourself in DM's
You could aggregate your followers like cattle in pens
But I'll still prod along with shocking growth; you can't rattle shit
I smell my healing in the air like I was inhaling Vicks
I peeped you got falcon eyes and that you want eagle wings
I know the devil is a liar; I don't want evil things
I know I moved but, tell me that I ain't N-Y, try
Still so New York, my grandfather died on Parkside
But if Mass gon' hold me close, then my devotion is set
Build a shrine to the citgo sign while I'm rollin' a spliff
"My God! Mr. Lost, what kind of rapping is this?"
The type of rapping that's a catalyst for paradigm shift, nigga