[Verse 1: #Database]
He said he spat the rhyme with a 40 oz of OE
Slowly, with mannerisms of a goalie
How he spit the rhyme ill & keep still
Will, ADHD isn’t real
Too bad cha mom and pop probably wouldn’t say so
Hey bro, the end of the day, you gotta pay so
Your fucked up money shit, 24 years & I ain't receive cent
It's time for wack emcees to take a hike
It's time for time for me to grab the mic
Hold it in one hand, I grip it like manwich
Brand switch, heat it up, then eat it like a sandwich
Tell Tucan Sam scram or get his man clipped
Sanskrit letters engrave lyrical handscript
Hand picked, and he raw like cilantro
Tonto, tell your granny drop drawers pronto
Track 5, Slick Rick, shout it like a combo
Center stage, t-shirts? I seen 'em throwing ponchos
Trend setter, compliments of Monpo, operation cuando
Database hold on
[Hook: #Database]
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone
[Verse 2: #Database]
When he spit a line he delivered in reel time For meals
Quick spiel, handy-cam fuck a deal, Im free
Every letter was perfectly well plotted, she nodded
To discover that she spotted
A franchise of emcees
You never heard
Solid with the lyrics and beats
That is my word
Whole team spitting slime til you quote a rhyme
So prime I probably should of told you that its go time
[Verse 3: TRW]
Most high, probably shoulda told you that its smoke time
Let me see ya microphone dawg I think I broke mine
Bully the boombox, shocked position locked
Johnnie Walker with no socks
Dropped into a clock
Watch photographic memory
Porno active energy, global tactic infantry
Vernaculars a symphony
Ya little lunch money ain't shit
I might bag up twice off one flip
One rip
[Hook]
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone
[Verse 4]
My plan, decisive, armed like a tricep
Extended a hybrid of crossbows with sightings
Song writing a heist and out drinking an Irish
Man, you could try him but I wouldn't advise him
He's leaking he considers himself a genius
So if he need his mouth shut please see him a seamstress
Drunk delinquent, toasting wiht jetsetters
Lighting weed on La Cienega in the best weather
Cali green, windows down, day is the best ever
Dunks wit the satin inside but rest leather
-- and who gon play harder to get better
Sick like my room full of cards saying get better
The soul army of rebels, who hold harmony in him
I'm at the barbeque yelling nigga yo momma be killing
The D, like your defeat, oh hold up your missing your feet
You raw? I guess why you missing the heat
On Mission Beach with fly women who listen to beats
Thats who I keep
No sleep
Hold your breath til the outro
You might wanna vouch for
Niggas you bring out dawg
Natve Mind we out cha'll
[Hook]
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone
(eyy) Hold on to the (eyy) microphone