| Motherfucker I’ve got problems
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| But them’ll never make the columns
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| Taxes baby mommas and they mommas' drama
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| Run and fuck the commas
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| Swimming with piranhas
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| Sharpening katanas
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| Decompress with ganja before all of y’all are goners
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| Unruly with the cowards
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| These truly last hours
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| Homie crank it up, bust it down, make it into powder
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| Take it out of space
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| Before these fuckers jump the counter
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| Me and Wrek are both tipsy from the whiskey sours
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| Come at they macs
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| A venomous track
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| You gentleman lack the better
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| This is sediment rap
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| The leather’s the map
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| Your lack is in costella
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| I tesseract and yes in fact
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| My lessons cold fellow
|
| You’ve been beckoned Jack to get on back
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| The game is Old Yeller
|
| So what the fuck you really want from me?
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| I’ve been holding it down so long my palms no longer bleed
|
| This is that cacti skin
|
| Sweet tea, get a sip of this
|
| And back up while we blast the fuck up out this insignificance
|
| They say that birds of a same feather flock together
|
| And some never get to sing
|
| So that’s probably why my whole team’s locked forever
|
| You can’t fly on one wing
|
| They say that you can kill two birds with just one stone
|
| Well go ahead and take your swing
|
| But one shot ain’t enough when you’re facing the kings
|
| You see you can’t fly on one wing
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| Bottle full of Mezcal, lemon lime demeanour
|
| Throttle push down with a pocket full of heaters
|
| Burning I’ve been serving lines since back before the streamers
|
| Ran in and changed the meters
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| To way beyond the fever
|
| We kept on rocking like the stones
|
| Got million dollar options with no profit off these poems
|
| Well that’s fucking fine
|
| Thought out the box but they wanted you to be stuck inside
|
| We brought the past into the future now lets up and ride
|
| Stay in a fading polaroid with my droids
|
| Trying to get these bitcoins lined up for my boys
|
| Just keep these hard drives spinning and these trailer wheels taught
|
| Keep 'em pressing all these bitches and they mommas for sport
|
| See I got no chance left
|
| Never out of breath
|
| Loud child
|
| Wild style
|
| Grew up in the centre isle
|
| This for all my people now
|
| Homie there’s some dark days
|
| That’s why it’s so hard to shine
|
| Time to hit that time off
|
| Redefine your state of mind
|
| They say that birds of a same feather flock together
|
| And some never get to sing
|
| So that’s probably why my whole team’s locked forever
|
| You can’t fly on one wing
|
| They say that you can kill two birds with just one stone
|
| Well go ahead and take your swing
|
| But one shot ain’t enough when you’re facing the kings
|
| You see you can’t fly on one wing
|
| I hang-glide through the thinnest air
|
| They fly on a wing and a prayer
|
| Taking dives
|
| Kamikaze pretending the engine’s stabilised
|
| And since I’m able I’m handing out chutes and saving lives
|
| They want to be strange to be playing and tied to labels
|
| Why I lead way
|
| Coming from dilated days of Day 5 and Jean Grey
|
| And I make time, from the Bayside
|
| To the BK
|
| My mind state stay on
|
| Trains getting defaced
|
| B-boying rocking shows
|
| Deejaying me and my team
|
| Straight up
|
| Headed for turbulence, Bernz shit is ridiculous
|
| I caught Wrek off a few dabs, now I’m ubiquitous
|
| So witness this
|
| Crew getting cut up if there’s playing
|
| I couldn’t give a flying fuck no I swear it I’m Eric Draven
|
| Out the grave quick
|
| Coming in just to devour crews
|
| Piling in the prototype in an hour with Howard Hughes
|
| Call me a dirty bird, I agree that I’m quite gutter
|
| It’s stranger nowadays cause I got with the right brother
|
| They say that birds of a same feather flock together
|
| And some never get to sing
|
| So that’s probably why my whole team’s locked forever
|
| You can’t fly on one wing
|
| They say that you can kill two birds with just one stone
|
| Well go ahead and take your swing
|
| But one shot ain’t enough when you’re facing the kings
|
| You see you can’t fly on one wing |