Writin chronicles off the chronic
u kno I’m bound to blow
I see you sold ya soul for a ounce of gold
we pick the cotton they turn it to calico
I’m on a mission like the Alamo
you dope, but you a ****, phallus flow
a predator, I get it jumpin like mackerel
delectable like a macaroon
so masterful/lights camera action bro
I twist words, like a spliff of herb
you talkin to me like I’m small time, guess you didn’t get the word
I might fold the block, when I bend the curb
heavy talk here my dog, these ain’t jus some words
when it hits ya ears
I wanna make sure the signals clear
I’m a howitzer, y’all little killers is Pistoleers
a king talks while the minions cheer
say it louder for the ones in the rear
takin hold of life while u live in fear
no substitute for this sound you jus sittin in
I’ll show what the mission is, you gon get the real
I move big boy
like behemoth
Never looking at the ceiling
talking zenith
Wave fevers at they V-Neck
cornball demeanor
Get ya team licked
for being lenient
My Arganots
show allegiance
after golden fleeces
My Queen pissing Figi
but she pure Parisan
fashionista
flaunting
flashy features
V’s pushed
looking plush
out of foreign regions
Reveries peddled
priced like Italian sneakers
Bar work rigorous
No sign of Fatiguing
Caught a hommy
with the homily
the past week end
Killed a mc
and the pen
he put his pet peeves in
Peep the High chieftain
fly talk applied frequent
My art official
ain't no prosthesis
Clip Cohibas
on the strong end of the weekend
steadfast at the breadbasket
Marble floors heated at the palace royal treatment
if theres a grievance we at odds til we even south of france chilly night Versace fleeces
gold pieces hanging like they did jesus
Or jesus move them birds like grey goose
the flow tight imagine when I break loose
its is or them can care less about what u did
play shady and get hit with the double m
So stop front like you dont acting like you will when u wont
when we already know its hunting season
I dont care if they the goat
I'm at ya throat
You know
Epilogue