Dem go tell you love and light, even for black out
If they mess with you, they get one eye like black beans
I bear arms like button-downs without the sleeves
Delicate MC’s sliced in my delicatessen
I stretch limit to this profession/My voice physically fit, tracks I’m bench-pressing
Rap on a doctrine level, so F. Scott Fitzgerald
Where everybody play they own part like a tooth gap
...and leave a crowd dripping like John the Baptist...
I became the better version of the version everybody thought was a better version
Only breakin' bad in the lab, thought y'all was makin' meth…