Nigga you’ll see what I do
I ain’t Tyson, I don’t bite man, prep up
But I’m Tyson, I get knocked down, get up
Man know the motto, been cash, man pen up
Rap game jarring but I ain’t quite fed up
I ain’t even talkin’ ’bout jarring youts
When I say fed up, I mean more food
I get the pen, start barking tunes
Stuck in your head like the Barking tune
We don’t spark, we bark these zoots
They’re no bite, we’ll bark these yutes
Who’s the young G that came through with the OG’s that can still out bar these yutes
Sitting here with this Gelato three five
I quit rappin’ before I’m three five
Your lyrical levels are knee high
Can’t kick up a beat like… like… rampin’ Chip been snappin’
Diss  me, I diss myself better, B-Rabbit
Gaucho, I get my steak with some veg’ but I never had my beef and came out cabbaged
Chip  don’t have it, oh, he’s savage
Pot belly on me, yeah the champs’ do damage
Best friend moved to LA, said he saw the bigger picture and he ain’t on the mic, he trappin’
I ain’t oblivious to scales in the room
Boy  it’s piff when I spit off the scale when I boom
Big Chip got the wave, you got the plague, I pray please God keep us out the same rooms
Cah I’m about the good vibes, good life, tryna have a good time
Good guy but tell you what the hood’s like
You must’ve thought I’m a do it by the book guy
I’ma get the money by rook or crook like
I was in the mud, had to climb up for fresh air
Why you think it’s mic’ corn when they step here
Chip’s gonna run out of bars, not even next year
Why is it they wanna see you fall when you get there? Play this song
[Intro]
Ay J, you know blud
Like  Adz would say, “ya’know I’m sayin?”
Daily  Duppy
Fanatics
Yo
[Verse]
How  long I been rappin’? Not askin’
It’s cool babe, hold this
Don’t drink if your body can’t hold it
LP, Dom P, I’m on my grown shit
You a wifey or thot babe, own it, it’s cool, I condone it
My mind been zoning, the weed shop that I go stays open
I got a few addictions but I’m coping
Like, sometimes I wanna quit smoking
Nah, fuck that, I’m rolling, I’m fucking bipolar
I don’t need diagnosing, I own up
I love young niggas chatting like olders
Cah boy I was twenty one feelin’ grown up
Now I see the generation gap and how it’s fuckin’ up the culture
Murder me a new rapper, charge it to the culture
Ain’t no pigeon ’bout to play with this vulture
I don’t get comfy, pussy I’m kosher, nobody told ya? Get where? Get here, money or they get aired
Text Ash like, “yo fam has the cheque cleared?”
Boy I ain’t got a leng but I got a pen
I make a hundred in a year and only drop ten
Niggas can’t gun me
Raskit like Dizzee, nobody spun me
Step correct when I push, gotta love it, haters wan’ touch him
This chain Cuban, security Russian
I ain’t taking no chances
Stand still, see the diamonds just dancin’
Give gyally champagne, more glasses
Couple dry mout’ gyal just glancin’, what drink? Uh
Been reppin’, big spliff, back of the dance, two steppin’
Olders and youngers who call man a legend
Respect the R9’s and CR7’s
Cah Chip had tek then and got tek now
We don’t tek’ chat, he’ll make a boy tek’, bow
Everyobody claiming thrones, want the top chair
Stop it, the scene was poppin’ before you got here
I just got haters, I ain’t got rivals
I don’t like Christmas, me, I do Guy Fawkes
Rap game, washing machine, it’s all cycles
Niggas should be spittin’, they be tryna go viral
Newbies going at idols, clinical cycle
Been a while, yeah, I seen what time do
Married to the game, no homo
You wanna do ring?