Broken Glass
Good looks run in my family
Even my momma could make a bitch cum in her panties
Just call me rosa parks, im rippin these hoes apart
I make em spread they toes apart/
On tour, on the back of the bus
On the floor, Im smackin em up
They grab the pool stick, I got em rackin em up
But you aint gon get a dude sick, im wrapin it up
They want my fresh fruit smoothie, they lappin it up/
They say they love the way it taste, like, jack in the box,
With haste, they let me in jack in they box
I aim for the face, im an immaculate shot
It’s a rumor that im wack, but a fact that im not /
Yes im quite nasty, but not too flashy
Nappy is my hair, im ashy not apache
It’s true I’m the number one scouted mic athlete
=Never gonna give you up= just call me Rick Astley/
Aim for my Achilles if you wanna skip past me
Im benevolent, to diss me me, is to blaspheme
Music is my favorite pastime, and my passion
Imma spit it hard till the last line of this passge/
You don’t have to ask why I’m a beast when I’m rappin
You could see that I’m obese cuz I feast on combatants
I got you steppin like a frat: feet-stompin, clappin
But I keep it fresh and that’s what most of these songs is lackin/
The flow is nuts, like I put Deez on the track
Ride out, [ breath ], had to get some trees from the trap
Now I’m elevated like 23’s on a lac
Time out, [ breath], had to breathe, now im back/
Hyper velocity, zero viscosity
Superfluous verses, so I can top anything that you got for me
Im choc-full of philosophy, comparable to Socrates
Im cautious so as not to be, regarded as a mockery/
Im just tryna be, covered in cheese, like broccoli
And lock down bitches from the Keyes to Immokalee
Speakin of keys, if you’re in need of some poppy seeds
Just holla at me, and my boys, we do it properly/
Even my momma could make a bitch cum in her panties
Just call me rosa parks, im rippin these hoes apart
I make em spread they toes apart/
On tour, on the back of the bus
On the floor, Im smackin em up
They grab the pool stick, I got em rackin em up
But you aint gon get a dude sick, im wrapin it up
They want my fresh fruit smoothie, they lappin it up/
They say they love the way it taste, like, jack in the box,
With haste, they let me in jack in they box
I aim for the face, im an immaculate shot
It’s a rumor that im wack, but a fact that im not /
Yes im quite nasty, but not too flashy
Nappy is my hair, im ashy not apache
It’s true I’m the number one scouted mic athlete
=Never gonna give you up= just call me Rick Astley/
Aim for my Achilles if you wanna skip past me
Im benevolent, to diss me me, is to blaspheme
Music is my favorite pastime, and my passion
Imma spit it hard till the last line of this passge/
You don’t have to ask why I’m a beast when I’m rappin
You could see that I’m obese cuz I feast on combatants
I got you steppin like a frat: feet-stompin, clappin
But I keep it fresh and that’s what most of these songs is lackin/
The flow is nuts, like I put Deez on the track
Ride out, [ breath ], had to get some trees from the trap
Now I’m elevated like 23’s on a lac
Time out, [ breath], had to breathe, now im back/
Hyper velocity, zero viscosity
Superfluous verses, so I can top anything that you got for me
Im choc-full of philosophy, comparable to Socrates
Im cautious so as not to be, regarded as a mockery/
Im just tryna be, covered in cheese, like broccoli
And lock down bitches from the Keyes to Immokalee
Speakin of keys, if you’re in need of some poppy seeds
Just holla at me, and my boys, we do it properly/