Untitled

Verse 1)

Yo, it's LilT, comin' straight with the fire,

Mic in his grip, got the whole game inspired.

Spittin’ bars so cold, make the summer freeze,

Every word hit hard, bring the haters to their knees.

Runnin’ laps 'round beats like a marathon race,

With a gold chain swingin' and a stone-cold face.

He ain't new to the game, he's the voice of the street,

Put respect on the name every time he speaks.

(Hook)

LilT spit bars, yeah he goin’ off loud,

Every rhyme hit heavy, make the whole crowd proud.

From the booth to the stage, he the lyrical king,

Watch the throne, 'cause he doin’ his thing.

(Verse 2)

He got flows for days, metaphors that amaze,

Turn pain into verses like a lyrical blaze.

Never miss a step, always sharp with the pen,

Put the beat in a chokehold again and again.

Independent grind, he don't wait for the deal,

Every drop like a weapon, keep it realer than real.

So when you hear that name, know the heat gon’ start,

It’s LilT — all talent, all bars, all heart.