| Throw your shit up
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| Trucks, pick up, kicks up dust
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| The same shit we stuck clicks up for
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| Snub hit up more, peach cores
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| Count one for my side
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| It’s like we’re keeping score
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| You’re lying down when the lion roars, and soars
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| When you breathe no more
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| A civil talk is now a civil war
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| Licking shots while you’re coming out the liqour store
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| You bought a round but we’re tossing rounds
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| And get the pigs that put a stencil with the chalk around
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| We confront the bullshit like we’re talking now
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| You the type to get tough when we walking out (clowns)
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| Your boss man, yeah we boss around
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| Fresh off tour, back home and tore it down
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| Yeah I do music
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| But trust I’m not here for your fucking amusement
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| Go
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| I don’t deal with ridicule, bullets riddle you
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| You knocked out yous tennis shoes at a minimal
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| Fuck an interview, I question a criminal
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| Fresh start in my eyes
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| Is ending you
|
| I spit bullets of mercury
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| No heart, no love, no mercy
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| You die if you thought of rap perjury
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| No heart, no love, no mercy
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| No mercy
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| No love no mercy
|
| I grab a sharp lyric to stab with, I mass it
|
| I’m an avalanche in an ad-lib
|
| Act like I’m jumping out of cabs with mad kids
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| With masks kids, pulling out nines to blast shit
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| I put your favorite rapper in a casket
|
| See I’m like a rash on chapsticks
|
| Fronting on the city driving backwards
|
| Words and tracks, relax Illa’s orchestrated elastic
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| My souls drowning in the bottle
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| Today is really yesterday’s tomorrow
|
| My time is borrowed
|
| No a Bugatti, I think I woke up in a gangster’s sorrow
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| Spitting fire and my teeth is all made of charcoal
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| I make music that the heart holds
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| Verbal Armani, Illuminati in the barcode
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| Drink, weed, and I’m sleeping with a known disease
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| I’m Al Capone, and I’m known as an assassin’s creed
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| Cross Ill and that’s blasphemy
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| I got a whole neighborhood that’ll blast for me
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| Flow jacuzzi, I’m Jack Ruby insanity
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| Cocking my three blending uzis in the Daiquiris |