

Prompt / Lyrics
All eyes on me when I am gripping the pen. I proceed to leave them in aw. With the illest of lines I just produce heat yeah my words meeting a beat is straight heat. They be hating as the metaphors and similes take flight. Trying as hard as they can but still ain't able to put up a challenge. I lace tracks with ease. I wish it made me think all I be doing is killing with this ink. Like led shots my sink in deep. Sleeping on me is catastrophic failing to recognize the threat. Have you picking up the the pump and pulling the trigger back on your own temple. A young go getter dome hitter. Make a beat my home. I revised their weak form I ain't dropping or fumbling the ball. Till I am on top of the mountain peak. Becareful how you speak life and death lies in the tongue. Disrespect is how your moms weep. I am just a money addict hook on the high of direct deposit. Making an another rack is a habit at this point. Back from death like Machiavelli leveling the block with a Mac and glock like Jon wick putting all of yall on a shirt. You and your whole family tree will be deep underneath the heap of dirt. If you play with me you will meet this work . Take you to the cleaners when I press this iron to the nape of your neck. It looks like today is your death date. It was checkmate when you stepped to the plate. Check the weather expect a heat wave and a hail of hollows. You know what follows body bags and toe tags. Don't blow any green only thing green I smoke are green lights. Not a fan of the cannabis more of them blue Benjamins. Servin bar for bar in the booth or any room. Spew nothing but heat like fire fire is what I breathe. Picking up a Mac and doing a sweep over your chest. Checking yall like we were playing chess. Laying down law like I waer a badge. But it is just that boom stick. Make them feel sick when they get word of their hommie getting hit. Knowing that they will be next. All of them has to be met with led bullets. Shouldn't have disrespected me now you dead. Just don't know it yet. Got 10 racks on your head. We won't be breaking bread. Maybe over your casket if you ask for it.
Tags
rap, hip hop
1:49
No
12/8/2025