BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Intro to Camp Hotbox
- I, don't,
- Mingle with critters, I'm tryna decipher with Tupac
- I don't do single figures, I'm tryna arrive in the group chat
- Reach the city that my raps be and kick it where narrow streets at
- I'm tryna feed my family, give a fuck about your feedback.
- From the chain gang to bandana shit, orang utan banana clips
- And rizlas tanned with cannabis, that make a man inanimate
- I don't throw the towel, I throw the whole ring like hoopla
- And the city my raps prowl be King Abdullah
- I choose the lyrical stature, my character caricature
- Thinking outside the box and marking, capture recapture
- To put it bluntly, you roaches and my joints? I'll match ya
- And leave it ugly, notice my high points manufacture
- Self proclaimed goats milking it, tryna jump over the moon, shit
- Aiming to blow up real quick, not koyaanisqatsi kaboom shit
- My R.O.D stuck to the cones, like reffing shooting hoops,
- The eyes watching, telescreens screening, so he elusive
- Where camp at, we sitting, air compact, we hitting rare contacts
- Who flitting into comrades, who bringing that strong crack
- I drink then think on my young past, the splint is shared and comes back
- I'm thinking I don't want that, then *hitting blunt sound effect* blunt contact
- Camp hotbox
- Camp hotbox
- Camp hotbox
- Camp hotbox
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