Hail Youth Praise Elan

The thought that got me all hype, the drop feel like the A-Bomb

Drop it like its napalm, tell em all to Stay Calm

Never stopped my grind and now they gassin me like Radon

So if you're talking shit- I don't see you through my Raybans

I'm genuine and down to Earth, the fuck you got to hate on?

They fuck you tryna play on? You must not wanna wait long

Steady packin weight on every single time I make songs

Flame on. You know I got them Fantastic Four

Drive and strength, flow and bars steady jam-packin morgues

That's four more than any of these backpackin bores

Steady fast-trackin forth with every back crackin chord

Take a breath and look around at every mass grabbin whore

All you see is skinny jeans and fuckin snap-backs galore

All you hear is watered down bull crap, matador

I'm about to drop the hammer like a slap-happy Thor

Brad's at the door steady pushin for the cashflow

Sellin cheap subscriptions of my foot up in your asshole

What more could you ask for? I spit crack, I'm that dope

Bars are guns and ammo, thats a motherfucking fact, bro

I'm just tryna find some truth in all the madness

Like why the hell its cool to be all stupid, young and classless

My view seems so imagined I hope you can understand it

And when it's all said and done I hope you knew me for my passion

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They want me to drop heavy rhymes. They expect better every time

Who are they to expect it? Nah. Who am I to reject it

This curse is ours for the bearin. The good die young and the evil inherit

This world is ours for the taking, no way to deny it

It takes a true soul to make it, and an empty heart to buy it

The truth exists, but I need to find myself first

Time is irrelevant, I'm just tryna live forever

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Fuck that I'mma go in, hit em with the flow and put a motherfucker through the motions

Spit a little venom in a minute but I bet I'm never really gonna get it all goin

Rippin it open, a lyrical poet, the drivel so potent

Grippin a mic can't nobody control him this time is a-tickin I'm tickin explodin, UH

Son of God, son of Sam. Sold his soul, 100 Grand

Dollars unmarked, rubberband. What part don't you understand?

You're slaving for another man. All victim to some fuckin plan

To prey upon the weak, the meek inherit Earth and run the land

Thunder slams through valleys, half these people get they pray on

The other half just prey on life, living young like c'est la-

Vie. Our time is comin it won't matter if you hang on

For now we're alive, livin. Hail Youth Praise Elan

HAIL YOUTH PRAISE ELAN