Lyrics
Hey yo, back the fuck back, nigga
I love my niggas steezy
(And my niggas love me)
Damn, and the saga continues
So stand still when I slide on the venue
Since middle school been on
Point with this pencil
Respect it, he stay sharper than Ginsus
What's on the menu? Crabs in a basket
You make it somewhere and they
Just grabbin' you back in
Amateur rappers and their mans wanna battle
And turn pale in the face
Like they last name Jackson
I admit, it was early for that
We still embarrassin' and damagin'
The burliest cats
But on a higher note J sTEEZ play keys
You can tell by the respect that
I have earned in the trap
See some say he the hottest in his class
The rest talk trash
I acknowledge it and laugh
Jockin' on my swag put the product in a bag
Since Erlenmeyer I learned to put
The fire to the flask
And came through with that crack spit
New to the league straight ballin'
Off a draft pick
You can tell all them amateurs
That you rappin' with
That I been going rampant since I
Came into this rapping shit
Staying passionate
Wrapping my hand around any rapper in
My caliber coming after it
Don't think they got the
Pamphlet and the manuscript
But every style of art they
Crafted I mastered it
So bow down to your sensei I been paid
Young boss since the tenth grade
Now I see through flows, like water
I'm flyer than C3P0 and Skywalker
Too much west coast dick lickin'
Too many niggas gettin' caught slippin'
Knittin' mittens into kissin' kittens
Too many chickens wanna be pigeons
Shittin' over
Stadiums, and leave it drippin'
On your cranium too many niggas think they
Gon' blow like Arabians
Thinkin' they gon' eat next like Drake
No Canadian
The best in the universe put you in a hearse
If I don't get my space like
Alien, the kid is fire, don't play with him
The fam used to baby him
Because he was the youngest
He made a few adjustments and then
Proved that he wasn't dumbest
I keep the fly-est chicks
With the flattest stomachs
Claim they just wanna get high
But on the low, they be down to suck it
And I'm not the one to fuck with, but fuck it
Leave the ruckus to a musket if you
Punk niggas can't take the judgment
They love it
Do a couple shows and I collect my hundred
It barely budge my budget but it
Ain't nothin' I stay stuntin'
They stay frontin' like I'm at the back
Rear door because I'm real though
And I've always been a weirdo nigga
A young Caesar but he never kept his hair low
The dear flow flows through
Ear flows explodes earlobes
And therefo' I remain the Pharoah
Sittin' on my royal chair, ho
With a gold-adorned sombrero
Came through I jacked the throne
You know the troop style
Let's sit em' down, and crown
Him like a root canal, bitch
We some bad ass motherfuckers, nigga
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Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
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