[prod. Reference]

[Verse]

Check, look I'm feelin' put in check

Dog, that's not bird flu, that's hay-fever from the aviaries

Cuz we tryn'a fly, spread our talons, but we caged

The morphine we inject ourselves, just to keep it dazed

I'd drink to my accomplishments, but they got the cups stacked

Smash 'em chic cover-ups, we steppin' out the Rug-Rat's

Playpen, wishin' nothin' on rappers but anaphylaxis

All they can wish is that I say fuck raps, bring it back

They ain't get me mad dog, but I'm not relaxed

My package ain't opened, this just the crackle of the bubble wraps

Uh, when I got enough cash to sell the posters man

Make sure you blu-tac 'em, I couldn't stand to be framed

We got a full-flamed track expect the meme response

You fuckers cry over the average just cuz it's a mean response

Huh, this floor will never get clean;

I tread my Nikes through the house so I can walk on all the shit I been through

[Bridge]

Till I'm broken

Till I'm broken, yeah

Yeah, till I'm broken

Uh, till I'm broken I will always bring it back

Bring it back, yeah

Yo, I'm going back in...

[Verse 2]

I told myself three shots, that's all I need to help me live and eat

I can't say what that is for me, one shot is for history

One shot is for itchin' free my gun, one shot at any G

That put themselves above me, man each of their shots be missin' me

Each of their shots be twisting off course until they're mysteries

While I be philosophizing in my lyrics like Euripides

And if you rip-a these tracks, I'll allow it, you ain't been pissin' me

Off, I ain't even gon be taken' it to be in juries

Man I trust I put you all in injuries, dissect your shit in vivisecturies

My poetry vivid enough to cure blindness in a century

You'll see eventually

My bars enough to put yours in penitentiaries

Man, I ain't ever been incarcerated, but a G, who'd been done for a bunch a'

Felonies, fell on knees and told me he'd been havin' internal issues like a Peloponnese

The only thing that got him through was my voice up on the beats

Hide n' seek with the bars as they come and go like storm clouds

Life is a game, and my dick is the joy stick

I bite dogs, like that boy Vick, if you're in the trap with me

Listen to this actually, tune into this rhapsody

Cuz maybe it's a masterpiece, maybe I'm a mastermind

Eschew the song, product of the upper echelon

Finding out a rapper who as a child didn't drug deal

Must be a bigger blow than finding out that Santa wasn't real

Master of them rapping meals, faster than Bugatti wheels

Hoping a sign to Mass Appeal, hoping that her ass is real

I stay in debt don't pay my dues, I'm dropping flames in Syracuse

Blowing up like Arabs do and smacking heads like caribous

Until I'm broken, yeah beyond words

Dyaaa