Biscuit Vision, Morning fog Rising

Biscuit Vision it's the movement get into it

Time ticking loud, clock screaming in my ear,

Microwave meals, dreams cooked in fear.

Ashtray spilling, smoke curling to the dome,

Biscuit vision, baby, bake it till we home.

Dirty south heat, grease popping on the pan,

Midwest cold, trap houses where we stand.

It’s time, it’s time, motherfuckers wake and bake,

Roll the dough, light the stove, get what you can take.

It’s biscuit vision, baby, rise up in the heat,

Join the movement, feel the rhythm in the street.

Gravy on the grind, got that syrup in my veins,

Street choir singing, every note leaves a stain.

Wake up, wake up, ain't no sleeping on this grind,

Dirty South hustle meets Midwest state of mind.

Stacks like pancakes, syrup drip so slow,

Trapping in the kitchen where the biscuits grow.

Rising like the dough, flipping batter on the beat,

Feet sticky from the syrup, blues stomp in the street.

Bassline heavy, like the skillet on the stove,

Funky blues screaming, watch the dirty south explode.

Time’s tickin’, oven mitt grip on the flame

Microwave the brain, poppin’ kernels of pain

Clock hands twitchin’, itching to slap fools

Breakfast for champions, syrup on rap rules

I’m the chef in the lab, cookin’ biscuits of wisdom

Knead the dough slow, feed the rhythm to the system

Grease poppin’, skillet hot, y’all ain’t ready

Butter knife sharp, slice bars like machetes

It’s time, it’s time—wake and bake with the poet,

Biscuit vision, motherfuckers better know it

Get in the movement,get into it,dough’s risin’, don’t blow it

It's biscuit vision, motherfuckers better show it

Dirty south steez with a Midwest twist

Trap house sermons, got ‘em clenching their fists

Flour on my apron, heat the block with the mix

These bars stick like syrup drips, hit after hit

Gravy train rollin’, biscuits stack in the back

Baking on beats, flipping stacks like flapjacks

Kitchen full of smoke, this ain’t for the faint

Got that raw dough flow, paint pictures with the taint

Rise up, rise up, dough gotta swell

Biscuit vision on a mission, break the spell

Morning fog thick, inhale the rebel yell

It’s time, it’s time, motherfuckers wake and bake,

Roll the dough, light the stove, get what you can take.

It’s biscuit vision, baby, rise up in the heat, y'all know it

Join the movement get into it, feel the rhythm in the street.

It’s flour in the air, butter melting in the soul,

Biscuit vision rising, grab your slice and take control.

Hard-hitting blues, trap dreams never fake,

It’s time, it’s time, motherfuckers wake and bake, Biscuit Vision rising fresh dough