| Wicked-minded and kind-hearted |
| Aiming for entertainment, then you picked a fine target |
| Nothing normal or regular here |
| In a world of rectangles and squares |
| Regular spheres are what I’ve grown to revere and respect |
| They neglect the rules and lines drawn |
| Mid-chaos boss, they managed to find calm |
| Met with a kiss of death and managed to find tongue |
| Sex with a chick is next to perfect when mind’s young |
| Idolize a single moment of pleasure |
| Cohesive in the sheets, let’s keep this moment together |
| And if I make you leak, promise me you’ll pull my lever |
| To release all of the feelings that I suppressed indefinitely |
| Effortlessly my mind travels to times past |
| Finding revelation at bottom of wine glasses |
| All I had in my pocket, a condom, a dime, chapstick, and a pad |
| Travel the city when lines pass, that’s free |
| Paid too much for that, get your money back |
| Kickin' back, sippin' up on some Honey Jack |
| Full glasses, it’s 'bout to be a mummy wrap |
| Off the Honey Jack, Honey Jack |
| Brown liquor |
| Off that Honey Jack |
| Okay |
| Clear for the turn up, brown for the mellow |
| Cinnamon for the punch, stir it, call it Canelo |
| Don’t take shots, just pour a glass and let go |
| The third one’ll probably have you bent like an elbow |
| Since in the ghetto |
| There’s a liquor store on every corner |
| It’s easy like tea in a kettle |
| Caffeine dreams, model chicks in stilettos |
| Mainstream love pull your strings like Gepetto |
| Jell-O backbone, she wax on, tryna shine |
| When she only hit your line for good times and Amaretto |
| Good wine is cool, but that whiskey’ll have you feelin' old-school |
| Record spinnin', Chopin on the cello |
| DeLorean, way ahead of your time |
| Sippin' some shit that settle your mind rather than have you laid out |
| On your knees at the porcelain throne prayed out |
| Don’t overdo your fade, all that kind of shit is played out |
| Todo lo que estaba haciendo en la universidad esto que preperarse |
| Ayy, bro, Smoke already lit, my nigga, don’t give this nigga nothing, nigga |
| Pour me up a drink, pour me up a drink, nigga |
| Bitch, I’m in the mood, fuck 'bout what you think, nigga |
| Ho, I’m who I’m is, fuck 'bout what you ain’t, nigga |
| Your shit is easy, I do just what you can’t, nigga |
| You bent if you think I ain’t straighter than a plank |
| And if you wanna push the issue, say it in my face |
| And I promise I won’t dismiss you, I’ma entertain |
| For a college nigga with knowledge, I’m a bit deranged |
| They thought a nigga left the hood and chose a different lane |
| I left the hood to rearrange how we approach the game |
| But that exposure got me feelin' like the odds is stacked against us |
| Systematic oppression, we just servants indentured |
| Politicians retire while we work 'til we in dentures |
| They kill our black heroes and then just give us one Avenger |
| Wakanda forever, my nigga |
| More like pour me a drink, I wonder what kind of liquor |
| And on the saxophone, we have |
| My big bro |
| Terrace Martin |