Same old same old as the days go
Pay roll stay low countin peso's
I chase those make flows an I blame those
Lameo's spittin lame flows just to make dough
Case closed, roll an L just to face it
This industry too basic I'm a livin breathin statement (that)
Hip-hop ain't dead its just buried in the pavement
Hear the sounds of the underground loud when you come around
Brooklyn be the bombest, and philly got they spitters
AC the little brother slowly gettin bigga
Where its cold in the winter they focused on they figures
An they triggas if you white rappin laughin at the wiggas
HA HA, Its no offense, on the fence about the rest of it
The Middle class broke, tryna make the best of it
Still a mess I confess I got a lot on my chest
But that don't do justice to the stress of it
This cold world turn colder as you grow older
Cold shoulders cause they sold that your souls sold
An they told they should fold in they folk poker
In a deck full of joe schmoe jokers
Step closer I don't suppose its chose where the flows go
Like who got it, I don't know, ready nose goes
An who the fuck passed you the mic, sayin you flow
Point him out, I wanna know where'd he go tho
Breathin fire no komodo, im wired on 4loko
Ridin dojo just my bro an mizzy coco snappin photos
Dodging po-po move my music like its weight an al capone
Stand alone, in my zone, cuz I don't got no where to go tho
Hoeee, woahh, Im guessin that's life
An if you caught a break once don't be expectin that twice
Roll the dice they been sleppin on mike
Bruh Im molestin the beat
While they neglectin the hype
But that's alright, cause ima, young prophet, they can't stop it, its obvious
Me an the hottest aatest in ya playlist is synomonous
Im honest cause im fond of this music got a bond with this
Beyond the common knowledge of the everyday rhymin kid
An ima make it big, reclinin while im dinin
Bruh I shine in line combining, in an industry declining
An I wrote this shit while eatin ramen an I ain't even tryin
I know the money comin perfect timin