| What, boy?
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| Let’s have some motherfuckin' fun
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| Yeah, ayee, yeah
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| Folarin like, women level-headed
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| And more aggressive
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| That demoralize any moralless
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| Man or woman and
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| More or less any man or woman that go against me
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| Better know the lord, ignore it, keep it at 450
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| Truckin'
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| Fuck a 450, we 730
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| It’s December now
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| When they simmer down we start burnin' 'em
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| It’s embarrassing
|
| There’s literally no comparison
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| That’s like comparing Yogi Berra and Yogi Ferrell
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| I’m the coldest poet, they never show it
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| I show up like the fuckin' bear from Revenant
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| Barely niggas is Yogi Bear in here
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| Mo', this is a picnic walk
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| I sip gin, tonic in booth then I big shit talk
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| I’m cool, clam, collected 'less I get pissed off
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| Then everybody get it like a pitch in kickball
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| Pimp hard, pimp hard, but think two times harder
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| Mulsanne parked
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| I bet the Pumas Usain Bolt to us
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| Woo! |
| That’s a fast ass pussy cat
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| Ralph really rappin' like he’s really, really in his bag yeah
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| Folarin like, a lot of artist father I
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| Think a lot of y’all been multiplying the prototype
|
| Notice I
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| Don’t hang with niggas much in this industry
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| Been this way, niggas be hating wasting my energy
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| Then they say
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| Maybe Folarin is just a mental case
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| It’s not the case
|
| I just confide in cases of Hennessy
|
| L.A. Fitness will fill up, yeah I’m gettin' a little bigger
|
| Baby mama don’t notice, all my bitches can dig it
|
| 'Bout to hit the casino, Steve O bring all the women
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| And if we hit the digits, the only way that we’re trickin'
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| Rose gold the pinky
|
| Flows gold, the singles
|
| Is all gold and platinum, I’m so focused really
|
| Whole goal was really
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| To promote the city
|
| Some niggas off that boat like they got motion sickness
|
| Lord forgive me, you know that I’m flawed
|
| But been on my job
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| Way more, 'cause I had a daughter
|
| I dogged bitches before
|
| Now talk sense into bitches
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| And not to give you my business
|
| But they ain’t bitches no more
|
| Naw, nah, fuck it let’s keep this shit goin'
|
| I see niggas talkin', could chalk it, grown people ignore it
|
| But keep with the bluffin'
|
| You see I be with people that love that shit
|
| Love to see you public performin', we will applaud
|
| Now you Weekend at Bernie-lookin'
|
| Mama purchasing urns for you, confirming you finished
|
| I done murked you niggas
|
| Whether first one, this verse is a hearse
|
| It hurts me to hurt you
|
| It burns, yeah it burns because I birthed you nigga
|
| Yeah, of course you niggas forgot
|
| But every time I drop a single niggas hittin' me up
|
| Tellin' me to give 'em a jump
|
| Never think they’ll ever pull up
|
| Literally I live in Maryland, Beverly Hills and the charts
|
| Yup, and with the pen it’s like I’m like Kemba with ball
|
| I’m Kyrie, Jamal
|
| Crawford, guard me and you fall
|
| Foreign features from South Korea
|
| BTS be the shit, we about to see it
|
| I am not North or South, I am just DMV
|
| I’m a G, well-achieved, well-received
|
| I’m a seasoned nigga
|
| Yeah, boy I’m the cleanest nigga
|
| Got soul, got style, rap genius nigga
|
| I will not back down when you see a nigga
|
| My whip black, like brown, Pam G’in a nigga
|
| Yeah, Folarin like
|
| Women like Miss Erykah
|
| Badu, see you next lifetime, I marry ya
|
| Playin' though nigga this gospel on my tonsils
|
| Got the world on my hand like Kwame on Captain Planet do
|
| I’m just a rhymer a lot of y’all just be sleepin' on
|
| They stay at mama’s house and get their Cheetos and cheap reefer on
|
| They stay on social media
|
| Being somebody doper than the person they are in person
|
| Of course nobody meetin' them
|
| Folarin like, none of these niggas
|
| Shine coming, man I’m tired of everyone of these niggas
|
| Fuck 'em |