Dem go tell you love and light, even for black out

Only breakin' bad in the lab, thought y'all was makin' meth…

Delicate MC’s sliced in my delicatessen

If they mess with you, they get one eye like black beans

Rap on a doctrine level, so F. Scott Fitzgerald

I bear arms like button-downs without the sleeves

I stretch limit to this profession/My voice physically fit, tracks I’m bench-pressing

I became the better version of the version everybody thought was a better version

...and leave a crowd dripping like John the Baptist...

Where everybody play they own part like a tooth gap