Reap

you wanna see a career flatline? I brought the defibrillator

Instrumentals from satans mixer, this that demon activator

trouble in my rhymes, still smell the blood from last chapter

my little brother rhyming? nah that boy a caption adder

 

smokers repeatedly buying my vintage flows

either that or the game been stealing those

hit the booth and start killing those

ooh wee, cut me some slack, beef never did that

 

this was different, jesus piece, please check the stats

quantum physics could never map the plots I attack

when I was ten, back when sixteens had to be packed

and nine times out of ten, rappers dont come back

 

when its tension in the air, pens come with extensions

my pen turned a quarter note to a symphony session

took an L? started selling watered down confessions

broke his bars misusing metaphors for attention

 

shirt unbuttoned, soul hanging out his chain

I said "pops, one day ima flood your whole domain"

thirty six tracks thousand grams of this flame

now you can rock it or pop it, same game, different name

 

he said "son, how you think you'll out rhyme the greats?"

I said "pops, your flow still stuck in '88"

he said "well nigga show me how the truth sound"

go figure, every bar leave a tooth out

 

now reap what you sow nigga, planted all them weak seeds

I was born in the fire, granddaddy was Slick indeed

now the same shit yall was rapping bout? I mastered it

every verse a crime scene yellow tape the cadence with...

 

you thought this was music? nah this autopsy live

last rapper tried this flow? closed casket surprise

 

twenty plus years of moving johnson & johnson

started as a fetus with a genius disorder

no wonder theres stretch marks on my conscience

my baby bottle was laced with that nonsense

 

gem star razor and a dinner plate

arm & hammer, baking soda by the mason weight

crack the window in the kitchen, let it circulate

watch it bubble on the stove like a minute maid

 

I was crack in the school zone

two pagers buzzing, starter jacket two tone

four lockers, four different mules on the payroll

black ferris bueller skipping class with the gold ropes

 

couldnt do wrong with a neck full of rope chains

what I push in the projects got 'em calling me "doc" plain

zhivago fighting demons like Ivan drago

"If he dies, he dies" we was raised by the cargo

 

like doughboy told tre, "If he ride, he ride"

took punches to the mirror, "If he cry, he cry"

we dont drown the pain when a soldier die

just add another link where the chrome lie

 

this that higher level chess

who gets his bills? who rocks his rolex best?

ten megapixels of the Pyrex test

started on the scale, digital my only timex flex

 

this shit timeless like the fumes in my septum

pure as the powder that corrupted my wisdom

this that simon says, simon red

blood on your diamonds 'til the coroners bed

 

now let me take you back to '93

when the block was hot and the cops was weak

mamas tears dried on the kitchen tile

same spot where I learned to cut the kilo right

 

size 13 jordans crushing crack rocks

math homework was counting trap stocks

teacher said "You gifted" I took it literal

gifted bricks to fiends looking spiritual

 

the corner was my campus

trigonometry was counting grams and packages

history class? just the fiends habits

science project was the baking magic

 

pops was a legend with a pocket full of sorrow

left me game in the form of a hollow

"either shine or get swallowed"

so I turned my pain into bars to be followed

 

now the fiends call me "professor"

the way I break it down got 'em begging for lessons

the streets my university

every scar on my knuckles a degree

 

this that crack rap

where every verse leave your brain tapped

where the truth hurt like a back slap

where the game give you cataracts

 

reap what you sow, nigga

the seeds you planted now a forest of triggers

the lies you told now a book of scriptures

the pain you sold came back in pictures