I am the nipsey to my nitty

Country livin in the gritty

I am who they talkin’ bout

When they ask who run the city

Nobody is fucking with me //

On this microphone /

Questions about what flight I’m on

Where I reside or who im cool with /

If you ain’t in my circle homie mind you’re own business //

You ain’t catching this wave I’m on/

Surf off this

No more chillin, broke in my apartment

Or working for a piece of shit at that desk in my old office /

This is that conglomerate, underdog triumphant (shit)

Ohh we knew he would blow conversation

Without the argument

Ain’t nobody topping this

Raw lyrics mixed with substance

(IS)

Knowledge of self

In dosages

Comprehend my messages

Encrypted in my lyrics

I call it Mexican medicine

Self made entrepreneur

Who just happens to be a lyricist

Asking me stupid questions

I could give a shit

Only concerned about my plane ticket and where I’m landing at//

It ain't Eazy

Believe me

I’ve been knee deep

In the trenches

My music doing the numbers

My numbers

Push up the bench press

Used to be less fortunate

Broke kid outta the orphanage

Fortunately my hustle and skill level

Got me the opposite

(Bop to this)

Down the block

Letting the speakers knock

After 12 o’clock

With the broke muffler exhaust

Louder than Diana Ross

Stacks fatter than ricky Ross

I’m the Fucking boss

Let ya boy floss

Sent from my iPhone