Manic Sunday

I've been smoking on fire

My rhymes combustible

Feel like the king of the hill men

Like I'm a Huxtable

Get respect from the gods and the OGs

Walk around the hood without a shirt

I'm indestructible

And my girl got her hair down she feelin ratchet

See how I'm cutting these niggas up just like a hatchet

And now everywhere I go, they hating on me

Still I'm eating niggas food like I'm a fat kid

I got your forks, your spoons, your plates all in house

The girls, they call me pumpkin spice

Stay in they mouth

Put in work, do it early

The big worm flippin birdies

Me and my niggas riding dirty, and thats word to the south

 

I popped the drop and she locked it

Tippin on 44s with prophet

Took a hit of that crossover then I stepped back and now I'm taking off like a rocket

Think you spit better than me, boy stop it

Spit sick, nasty shit my flows toxic

Feel I'm the only one to put stock in

Find a brick to pick, then I roll boy

I sling the rock like I'm Stockton

They're flows are like a splish-splash

Couldn't even fill a kid bath

They listen me, the play it back and still I'm giving them whiplash

Don't make me open the can of kick ass and pour it all out on your bitch ass

You ain't made for rapping boy just stick to flossin

Oh, and shut the fuck up when the prophets talkin

(Yeah)