Warning shots

This is what they heard at the walls before it fell to my drawls

Lawd said I got ’em on call, He said “listen, the city’ll fall”

Warning shots

I said seven times, it’s a paradigm

And I’ll blow that trumpet like the end times

—

—run it—

I don’t yell for the room, I compress it

Every bar bend space, feel the tension

You confuse being loud with aggressive

I’m aggressive in thought, that’s a weapon

I been starving my ego, feeding the craft

You been chasing reactions, bleeding the act

Every smile you post got a leak in the mask

I don’t break character, I break the glass

I rap like I’m late on rent with a thesis

Tongue got calluses, teeth marks in the cadence

I don’t reach for a crown, I erase it

Then watch everybody argue who vacant

Momentum elastic, I snap in the pocket

The beat try to breathe, I choke it unconscious

I don’t surf the wave, I rock it

Till the coastlines redraw where the borders was plotted

You rap like you want me to like it

I rap like I’m done being patient

Every line land sharp, no typing

Just pressure-point jabs in the placement

I been counting my wins with a frown

‘Cause the losses still live in the sound

You hear hunger, I hear the countdown

When the room get quiet, I’m loud

Cadence keep folding, origami aggression

Bars overlap like I’m dodging the question

You chase a moment, I weaponize seconds

Turn five into four into none, that’s compression

This ain’t pain porn, this is focus

This the look of somebody that noticed

Every system allergic to truth when it’s potent

I don’t shake tables, I tilt ‘em and expose it

You perform for approval, I audit behavior

Watch who switch pace when I enter the radius

I don’t need threats, my silence is dangerous

They feel me coming like shifts in the latitude

I’m not dark ‘cause it’s trendy or marketable

I’m dark ‘cause I seen how the margins get carved into

Every “bro” turn competitor comfortable

Until the score move and the love get conditional

Warning shots wasn’t noise, it was punctuation

A comma before the capitulation

If the city collapse, that’s accumulation

Of every lie y’all called motivation

I don’t ask for the lane, I take traction

Trauma turned into fine-tuned reactions

I don’t snap out of rage, I ration it

Feed it rhythm and keep it in fractions

Seven times wasn’t ritual hype

It was muscle memory built from the fight

I don’t blow trumpets, I bend the light

Till the end look close and the fear feel right

No choir, no savior, no halo, no pose

Just breath in the booth and a foot on the throat

Of complacent-ass comfort that y’all call growth

I said what they heard—

now deal with the echo.

This is what they heard at the walls before it fell to my drawls

Lawd said I got ’em on call, He said “listen, the city’ll fall”

Warning shots

I said seven times, it’s a paradigm

And I’ll blow that trumpet like the end times