Fool's Mate

Poet's castle fortified, no pawn on my line,

King makin’ moves, crooks caught in design.

Got bishops in my court, with clergy to swing,

Your church ain't got scripture when the poet’s the king.

Checkmate, boy, this board ain't a game,

Rooks on the prowl, torch in the flame.

Sacrifice no knight, crown steady, I reign,

Up church Your sermons ain't verses, just dirt in the rain.

"Real Backwoods," claimin' roots runnin’ deep,

But your branches crack brittle—shallow ain't steep.

I’m two steps ahead, every square’s in my hand,

You a pawn tryna flex when this king makes the stand.

Kinfolk thick, carry hymns down the row,

You preach "Holler Boys," but we bury what you sow.

Queen in my corner, commands at the gate,

Your game’s outta play; fate seals the slate.

Checkmate, boy, your knights too slow,

My castles stay standing through the rising flow.

Push pawns if you want, but the king don’t fold,

I’m a poet; your tapes turntin’ cold.

Label me outcast, I'll spit "Built Like That,"

Your "Bloodline’s" too thin; chess swords'll clash.

Up church You ain't no threat, just a rook gone astray,

Preach gospel in the dark, can't rewrite the play.poet's the king of the chess board boy you just got fool's mate and called out put down that glass Willie chicken willie and get some sleep before you end up dead meth Billy up church your a special Ed