[Intro]

This shit feel like a classic, TU!

Halo, uh

I'm gon' let that beat ride for a second, dawg

Uh

Uh, okay

[Verse]

The quarantine pack is in, GRIPPER is back again

Tigg' tryna roll a seven like I shot craps with him

Could not afford shit off the racks, now I get racks with him

Bitch-boys jump on the track and the raps get masculine

Keep practicin', you not half as passionate

I'm the bastard that mastered it

And still own the masters to my classic shit

Far from a pacifist, better watch who you clashin' with

I'm Cassius with the jab, quit the jabberin'

My words get to stabbin' like a javelin travelin' through the abdomen

I do damage with a pad and pen

Back in my bag again, I got it from here TU!, tap me in

This shit feel like when legends are born

And many weapons are formed, but I always weather the storm

Ahead of the norm, go find more competitors for him

It's like I got my hand on a lil' nigga head

And he swingin', but he ain't even connectin' with my legs

Been a stand-up-guy since I stood on my cousin's pegs

Bikin' it through the hood, high as hell off the reg'

Before perc's and mollies sent you niggas off the edge

I was out here, flip flops and tube socks

Stashed all of my money from juugs off in the shoe box

Was never one to slew rocks, but kept two Glocks

A Rondo and a Zubac

You think you 2Pac? Bet a few shots will prove that you not

I ain't amused by the tough-guy act

And know the last thing I wanna do is bust my strap

But if it's either you or me, sayonara my man

Dyin' ain't a part of the plan, it ain't the hand you dealt

But how you play the cards in your hand, this shit was hardly luck

I had to get it out the mud like the car was stuck

A modern day martyr on the MARTA bus, I spar like Spartacus

With any fool that think that they smart enough to bar me up

Rap messiah, the flow rapid fire

This go for any classics prior, I'm passin' by ya

I'm back, inspired, most of the shit I hear is whack, I'm tired

I took a nap for months and nobody lapped me once

It's clear to see that I'm ahead of my time

Like the boy from Bed–Stuy, shot dead in his prime

They ain't caught on to Porch yet, and Snubnose was a flex

Now A&Rs sendin' texts, they wanna know what's next

Well, since these nigga still sleepy, I might do an EP

This don't count, it's just me workin' out

To get the album niggas gotta offer up the pesos

Until then I lay low, for now, here's Halo