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…