Extinct (Original Remix)

By REASON

Released on November 28, 2020

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[Intro: Isaiah Rashad]

Yeah

I'm just sayin' that, yeah

I just, damn

Yeah, yeah


[Verse 1: Isaiah Rashad]

I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw

Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'

Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward

Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore

Don't try to hold that, you can't control that

I bought the 'Rari, the Tesla, then I got the throwback

I used to ride it, the Honda that was black as Kodak

And I recall it, like a picture, that is, really, that's sick

Big screen lyrics, yeah, sixteen nearin', and

"Zay, 'fore you leave, Can you fuck me in the mirror?" Yeah

Baby, I got too many bitches not to mention them

Hoes, I don't evеn know they names but they bе feelin' it tough

They wanna touch me like under covers and anacondas

Before you fuckin' go purchase your Gary Paytons

I'm really not everybody, sippin' and talkin' bad as yo' daddy

You shouldn't fuck with these niggas, we was the reckless


[Verse 2: REASON]

Yeah, I fuck my bitch when I'm bored, rich from the poor

Drunk, high, stumblin' off the shits and record

Smooth nigga, even when I miss, I'ma score

Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore

Zay, I don't agree what you talkin', I ain't no regular

Fuck you think they callin' me, "Him?" I'm a competitor

Levelin', young veteran, more lines than editors

Shit, why you think we Top Dawgs? Niggas different, uh

I been that nigga since Hov was Big Pimpin'

Fly nigga, ain't no gravity, damn

Say somethin' slick, we on your line like a family plan

I used to throw up gang signs out my granny new van

Just some young hood niggas with no guidance like Drake and Chris

My latest shit, make niggas elevate they pen

My new chick always say she ain't no basic bitch

Well, tell me why we always argue over basic shit? That's crazy

2020, we can burn one

I done took way too many Ls and I ain't earned some

No more buyin' bags for bitches that can't afford one

No more gettin' brain from bitches that I can't learn from

Look, we done went from H to the Izzo

To now a bunch of niggas and bitches with all gimmicks

Show they ass more than Lizzo, shit (That's my baby, haha)

This shit screwed up (Oh), I stayed the same like grenades

When I took my pen out, a nigga blew up (Look)


[Verse 3: JID]

I used to ride through the six with my boys, kick in your door

Psychoanalysis, I feel like Sigmund Freud

Video vixen, she copped her tits from the store, said

"Damn, they don't make 'em like this a—"

Bitch, you are doorbell dumb

Lookin' from crumbs in the cracks of a couch in a mad house

I laugh out loud at shit I'm mad 'bout

Cash cow or mad cow if I ever cashed out

Backpedals and tackles just turn into the rap route

Mac robbin' niggas with MACs after he maxed out

Called him again, minimum chance he get back out

Scope and a lens, we was kids with bubble wrap

Oblivious to the fact the candy lady was a trap house

Slidin' through the city, I'm like Sly and the Stones

I got the fam and the blicky if you're eyein' me wrong

Told the cop, "It ain't the fifties, I'll pop this chrome

And I will not be wrong," next stop we home (Yeah)


[Chorus: REASON]

Wait JID, I'm in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics

I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry

Talkin' real big wheel like Ferris, top that shit from the greatest

Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON


[Post-Chorus: Isaiah Rashad]

I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw

Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'

Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward

Damn, they don't make 'em like this—


[Verse 4: Joey Bada$$]

Uh, niggas want my old shit, buy my old album

And tell your favorite rappers, come see me and peep the outcome

I put a X right beside his name like Malcolm

And give his head to the nigga that- stole the style from

I got a list of niggas to kill, don't ask, "How come?"

Don't ask no names, just pray that you not one

I ain't playin' with these niggas but they still is my sons

And fuck your top five if I ain't your top one

These raps written in blood, I got little for buzz

Know how I'm feelin' this bud, I'm the king of my city

Not gon' fiddle with love, but ain't nobody to trust if niggas ain't with the fuss

I see through the poker face, dawg I'm calling the bluff

I shine like a multifaceted gem in the rough

I'm passionate with every pen that I touch

It's like I wrote this shit in cursive

God MC flow, nigga these is Bible verses

The feature feet on the clue to hearses

Same thing you gifted with is what your beat cursed with


[Verse 5: WESTSIDE BOOGIE]

Yeah, yeah, uh

Who left the bricks on the floor, we too big on the boards

Well, smooth nigga off the bench, I'ma score

I could hit a million hoes, that's legit, but I'm sure

They don't make 'em like my bitch anymore, who let these kids in the door

You was 'posed to keep it closed, now they in here throwing stones

And break the window to my soul, ain't no remote chance in hell I ever let 'em get control, uh

I surf the 'Gram and see the wave you niggas rode, go to the board for the lesson

I be transparent with you, just don't be projecting

Who taught you to be armed and use your guard as a weapon?

Who told you, hit your shell every time you feel threatened?

You know that I've been stressed, I smoked a quarter by afternoon

I walk with an attitude, I gave you niggas change and got no token of gratitude

Like what I gotta do to make you tap in?

I might fuck around, start beefin' with my rap friends, fuck you REASON


[Verse 6: Denzel Curry]

Before we roam, let me go back to the start

'Cause art imitates life and life imitates art

Once we start to dive in this knowledge and this wisdom

They gon' always wanna box us in like it's cubism

Knew about Picasso before I was a snot-nose

Before I had a pot to piss in, and for a hot stone

Pressure is like walkin' across hot coal

I'm cooler than a North Face in Norway, Oslo

Everybody on this track is known to slay shit

JID gave me a reason to snap on Zay shit

Toy with my emotions, I am not one to play with

I'm rappin' with these Top Dawgs, to chill with my down bitch

That is no lie, I'm a nice guy and a wise guy

With a bright mind fresh out of Muay Thai

Don't like to beef with niggas 'cause they all pie

Only time they really caught a body was in Far Cry

Try to bring the Grammy to the crib, that's it

Why die to be a legend when I live that shit?

You could talk about my music, I don't give two shits because

Sooner or later you gon' ride my dick

Icarus if I fall off, but Imma soar

Like a sprained ankle when landed on the floor

If you don't like the song, here's the exit door

'Cause they don't really make 'em like- (JetsonMade another one)

[Verse 7: Jack Harlow & REASON]

Bitch we've been bored, I wish we could tour

Girl you need Christ, not Christian Dior

Why you keep trying to take pics with me for?

Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore

A white boy broke her heart back in high school

Now she told me she ain't takin' white dick anymore

"Damn, are you sure?" Cried when she don't get her way

"Damn, are you four?" Stole her heart, now I'm tryna slide in the getaway

The game chose me, baby I didn't get a say

I done watched a lot of rappers rise and disintegrate

Paid attention to the styles I'm finna demonstrate, this is how you do it mane

World's gettin' too insane, turned a check into a chain

Tuggin' on a new earrher NuvaRing, we are not the same

If you fuckin' with my crew then you got the right brothers like we flew a plane

Don't ask me about it, let your boo explain (Look)


[Pre-Chorus: REASON]

Say she don't know REASON, that shit too insane

Old school, put my shorty on Biggie like Pootie Tang, do ya' thang

Cap in all the raps, that shit don't stop

Your shit like Breonna Taylor killers, that shit don't knock


[Chorus: REASON]

Wait Jack, I'm in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics

I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry

Talkin' real big wheel like Ferris, top that shit from the greatest

Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON


[Post-Chorus: Isaiah Rashad]

I take my licks in the storm, bitch do me raw

Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'

Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward

Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore