Gotta be better quality, burn botany commodities— not the wannabe commonly brought into the economy / Reggie not in my bodily, only the loud pack. Taking it now back, your weed is speaking inaudibly. / Pot and tree entering the nostrils through the washed clothes. Everybody in the spot knows you got yours / then it’s considered official loud if the pot grows, so his high last— supper with apostles. / Know when I pass, nothing in the bottle— another mixed breed kid smelling like dank. / This nigga’s an egregious felon I think, just whisper them a free tip feeling like Bane. / Gas to the face and I’m in the underground, telling my brother “the fire has started”. / Hard shit I spit retire the squadron full of some crackers they hired to market. / Killing them mark ass rappers that hawk this, staring at a nigga like I really don’t spit flame. / Like I really won’t change the game when he spit tame. Even though he kill him, nigga tell him don’t shit change. / It feels so good to be this strong with people this weak I’m leading on. / Some female think the D that’s long will be in they pink in between they thong
Bitch, wake yo punk ass up! It’s a new day! / Bitch, wake yo punk ass up! It’s a new day! / Seven in the morning blowing dojah out the window! / Seven in the morning blowing dojah out the window! / Bitch, wake yo punk ass up! It’s a new day! / Bitch, wake yo punk ass up! It’s a new day! / Seven in the morning blowing dojah out the window! / Seven in the morning blowing dojah out the window!
Gotta get the right lighter to ignite a fire like you made tent, dummy. / Then you gotta get the Dutch and split it down the middle like a roommate rent money. / Yearning and searching the urban seek the street to be burning the herb and tree. / I urgently need purple weed. Blood in my lung will turn burgundy. / Illest individual but never recognized, for the record dies every time it’s not a lot of talk. / But I swear to God I don’t get enough credit kind of like a drop out when he not allowed to walk. / Stay reserved kind of like I’m not allowed to park. Shit gets to me cuz I really need dough. / They calling me a hater when they wave a stack of money but the shit gets to me cuz I really be poor. / Wishing that I never had to go to Check Advance, swear to God that I’mma kill it when I get the chance. / Bet that I’mma take off these Walmart sweatpants when I get rid of my debt and dance. / Got a hater giving me a threatening glance, but I really don’t care. He ain’t going nowhere. / Tell the future kind of like I read these hands, you ain’t blowing up, nigga. I know, no fair
Bitch, wake yo punk ass up! It’s a new day! / Bitch, wake yo punk ass up! It’s a new day! / Seven in the morning blowing dojah out the window! / Seven in the morning blowing dojah out the window! / Bitch, wake yo punk ass up! It’s a new day! / Bitch, wake yo punk ass up! It’s a new day! / Seven in the morning blowing dojah out the window! / Seven in the morning blowing dojah out the window!
Needle hit the groove, rapper destiny sealed, removing the chance to impress much with a first tape. / Steadily improving, numbers finally moving. Younger mind than the proven— leave artists touched when the verse shaped. / Don’t got a lot of years, yeah, but I got plans. Bars getting scanned over, yeah, but I got Stans. / Hard hitting fans know the fear’s not an option because we’re too scarred by the tears when we stop praying. / But in the meantime unfold what’s concealed besides your clothing. / Living in the moment, you can know what you haven’t felt besides your loathing. / These times are golden, seize it and own it. Step up like fighting a seasoned opponent. / Whether you fired in the weed or the bong hit or you just writing and greeting the moment
