THIS IS JUST A ROUGH DRAFT

To be completed and touched up

Thnx

I just thought this beat was cold

Second cousin’s uncle phoned

Put his ass on hold

All of yall are fake, it’s emperical

A year ago, you weren’t calling me

Now your ass imploring me to help you out with a couple a bills

Cos you know my cousin has a couple mills

Friend request from Uncle Phil

You know I knew your mother?

I knew your father like a brother

Where were yall when he died

Just like all the others

How the fuck you even get my fuckin number

Archive yo’ ass

I know you desperate because of apartheid, it’s sad

It put is in this position

Don’t be thrown off by my lightskin disposition

So listen, I’m getting fed up with all of the sneak dissin

Walk up through your trap with the modifieds

And turn your whole hood into Columbine

Keep talking crazy, and your life end up compromised

I wanna tell you a story about my first homicide

Juvenile jit with gang affiliations

Down the street, a nigga making dangerous accusations

Put my homie in a court room on two counts of marijuana possession

Was ready to forgive, until I heard about the girl that he molested

Disgusted, without a question, I went and I grabbed my smith n’

Killed that nigga, and his producer too

Murdered while he was recording, slumped in the booth

I don’t mean to be a sleuth, like fuckin Sherlock Homes

And I didn’t mean for this to, drag on

Like season 8 of Game of Thrones

But all niggas sound the same, all yall niggas clones

Here is a bit of advice for you

It is not scary unless you say “boo”

Pink dreads on your head, you can call me Goku

Stealing the flows of those who stiff and froze six feet below

The goats, just know, that will never be you

Ain't no rules in the jungle, see my flows are nasty

Expose the fact that your nose had rhinoplasty

Markquez Santiago, you plead guilty in trial

Since I shot that chomo dead, it’s been a while

I don’t kid around, I don’t fuck with (pedofiles)

Just give me time to recollect, to reconnect with the old me

In retrospect, I remember that once someone told me

“Little homie, only thing that matters is respect”

If only, he didn’t get two slugs shot right through his neck

He’d still be living below me, in our apartment complex

But where others see projects, I see prospects

Don’t expect not to get stung, put ya hand into the wasp’s nest

I need respect indeed

I guess it start introspectively, I’m part of the problem

Way we treating women like objects

If they got pair of tits, and some ass

We give them the checkmark

Making them self-conscious of their curves and of their stretchmarks

I guess not

I’m off that

I wanna cop a space ship to be honest

Blast off in space, like a comet

And that’s just me being modest

Or it might be the chronic

Spoke to my doctor about it

Something bout being pneumonic

Said listen

I’m on another type of time

If I could I time travel to another ti- a time

Queensbridge, 1989

Nas, Mobb Deep, back when rap was at it’s prime

Maybe make a record with BIG and Dirty Bastard

Comin at yo neck, Wu Tang Style, my face is plastered

All over the city, on the block

The air is chilly, that cliché New York sound

Blow out ya kidneys

Smoking flocka on ya tombstone

Puffing clouds just like a chimney

Cos ain't no such things as halfway crooks

Niggas too busy making catchy hooks

Never putting mind into they bars

Trap is the worst thing to happen to black teens

Since, crack and cigars

I don’t know if I agree with that statement boss

If you test my Power

I’ll get you hit with the tommy

Kill you off

Leave you dead in ya car

Like Kanan was

Pinning blacks and whites against each other

Like a grandmaster

You can string me up on the flaming cross

Flaming, burns, don’t understand me

I gotta put into laymans terms

Lame mans terms

I can't hear you, the line is breaking up

Gotta send it to relations firms

Can't think of anything intelligent to say

So you resort to racial terms

Complain about the crime rate

But oh boy, do you love your guns

And ya red caps

Literally what I call a “MAGA”zine

If we got an issue

He nose the closest thing he gots to blowin paper is with a tissue

You a fufu flower boy, I’ll send my Bs to pollenate you

Violate you

I got magazines, articles, come at me, got an arsenal

I’ll send my Hitman to Holla at you

Bring it back

I got magazines, if we got an issue

Articles, I got big ones and microscopes

Like we dealing with particles

Imma clean yo ass up, but I’m still finna get messy

5 foot 7, your life a short story, I’m living essays

Bring it back

I’m living essays, I speak for the streets, this the language I speak, just use your common sense

If you can comprehend that

I’m living essays, but this ain't creative writing

Slow down Karate Kid

I heard you can be a danger fighting

But if you come at me with that

Kung Fu, one two

Imma pull up with arms, and we gon see what them guns do

Are you done fool?

All this fake woke shit

But you ain't done shit for the black community

Just because your father’s who he is don’t mean that you got immunity

If you want some advice

Pump you up with hollows

You can catch tips

I’m generous with my gratuity

You father forged your career

It seems like he’s the only black smith

Now he better write you a eulogy

Come at me, and I’ll smoke your ass like a cigarette

Lying in ya casket when teary eyed Jadakiss you goodbye

Literally what I call a kiss of death

I’m tired of you biting my shit, blood

Now I gotta use a mosquito net

I know sometimes my rhymes can be one dimensional

But you R2D2 how tattooine my name on ya torso