[Evict]
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards
Wearing twenty-three, when I'm jumping on the court
Because I do it, how the best do
Going hard in the paint, I do my step through
So don't be talking like you're fresh, fool
You're not raw, can't rap, not sick, bless you
I might die, to pass time
In past lives, my nickmame was Einstein
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards
Don't make me go and get, my rather cultified stores
Evict might spit, straight to your right lip
Like an upper cut, man, I admit that's tight shit
I know you don't like this
But you can't fight, I know you're not Tyson
25 to life, apparently where I'm going
If I continue down this flight
No what, you maybe right
You're still wrong, in the sense of what I write
Never pull when I punch, it's Kool Aid shit
Her eyes red from the snuff
Rap game, I barely touched
Been in here for a year, you sorry little fucks
Ballers, I put numbers on the boards
My premise here, is to get the image clear
I'll never dissapear, i'll still remain in your ear
My conglamorate's the fly faithful
I get it clean, no keys, no triangles