Maintaining

By Radamiz

On Writeous

Released on October 28, 2015

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[Intro]

This "Writeous"

I believe in this


[Verse 1: Radamiz]

I want to's become I have to's

Song names turn to statues

It was your time, now's your curfew son

And fake friend bound to turn to rap feuds

When I die, have a big ass party in my glory

In my honor, for my story, this my karma for that stardom

Don't idolize me

You just tryna eye-for-an-eye me

For reality checks they gon' rob me

Wherever you can't go is where you'll find me

Cinema of my lifeline, "Writeous" ain't even the teaser

Sleep is the cousin of Death, and I ain't related to either

I'm so focused

Tourette lookin' with your twerking ass, hardly workin' ass

Full glass probably half empty to your thirsty ass

I'm all open

And you got fans but ain't cool to me

Blowin the tip, that's gratuity

Blame the pay cuts, the fake ruined me, the hate's fuming me

Who the fuck gave you a cosign?

The biggest lie's that all of this gon' pop off in no time

I'm just tryna find where freedom lies

Your shit is free dumb lies

How you view your life's gon' be your demise

The prize of success came with no surprise

Man I been grindin'


[Hook: King Critical]

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[Verse 2: Radamiz]

Fuck you pessimists, ain't never did shit so they turn to critics Picture them blackin' out like a negative

Where the medals for my regiment?

Out the cement we arose, your turn tentative

Decadence more like medicine full of sentiments for my foes

Turned to Damien as their lord

Runnin' through the Triple 6 with their woes

You way half way crook, other half mediocrity

You spit bullshit, that's hypocrisy

Gallon of Henny turn a sober to a Socrates

This my chaining day, spit a jewel to blow your name away

Then throw it up like Dame in '98

For all the times my denim ain't even have a dime to pay

I spit that gospel, turn a criminal to a minister

Treat your torch lit like a cigarette

Turn your limelight to a silhouette

In need of inspiration, ain't no competition sparkin' that

Planted my seeds, Madison Garden the harvest

That real shit been like an artifact

Too rare for synonyms, maybe “too rare”s the synonym for the way that I scribble out mine

For too long been sizzlin', ima ball like Krillin, plus the discs got that "Writeous" sign

That’s not a lie, hundred milli for Mogul on that dotted line

Then I prophesize

The revolution will be televised and monetized


[Hook: King Critical]


[Verse 3: King Critical]

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