I'm your host, here's a joke... cue the laughter
The world I'm living in isn't ready for the rapture
But that's what i'mma give 'em when I'm rapping on the track, sir
Half-hurt feelings combating the glad factor
Flowmaster. Capture a flow faster
Than napkins or pads straight to the snatch when Flo's back
Or perhaps the relaxed assassin attacking with whack tactics
Witnesses go to storage... questions are asked after
All the pageantry is fallacy filled
I got nothing. But really I be down in my feels
I want the most so I'mma stay undoubtedly trill
And focused. I'm hoping the long run is sloped
And downhill like I'm skiing and this pizza isn't working
'Cause then I couldn't stop regardless of fear lurking
Inside my sick mind where I'm feeling worthless
So let me do a search to find my true purpose...
Nics, Again. Flowing till the story hits the end
I spit so sick cold symptoms could commence
And when I'm on the track it's like a lion in a den
Drop a line and it's a gem only I can comprehend
But, listen up! I just made you my addressee
I paint a scene like Bob while staying flyer than Betsy's
Flag. Stay off the rag and be careful not to upset me
That'd be a bigger blunder than Kendall teaming with Pepsi
I'm resurrected when I'm Mic checking
I'm resurrected when I'm Mic checking
I said I'm, I'm resurrected when I'm Mic checking
I might check into a ward for some psych sessions
Yeah, I'm resurrected when I'm Mic checking
Yeah, I'm resurrected when I'm Mic checking
I said I'm, I'm resurrected when I'm Mic checking
I might check into a ward for some psych sessions