OK, put me in your ear buds
Me and Dirty use your cerebellum like a kick drum
Give me a scalpel, I'ma brain surgeon this time
In other words, I'ma 'bout to open up your mind
Light of the world, I say Amen to that
Cuz every time I hit a track
Aye, you lookin' kinda hungry
Boy, my flow, your rows, meetin' these raps
Aye, you look at me thinkin' I made it
I look up and say it's God's grace and we come from places where you see faces
No barber shop, somehow they faded
Why do I need to worry about what you thinkin'
We ain't even supposed to be in these spaces
Drop to the fed, we celebrated
3, 2, 1 everybody go crazy
I'ma call my brothers in the A
I'ma call my brothers in the H
Tampa Bay, NYC, Californ, IA, MIA
Dallas, Orlando, St. Louie, and my my people is with me
It don't matter what city I tell 'em
Try to do us wrong, but they come up short as Frodo
Turn my music on, have them bouncin' like Pogo
But it's always one hater out here lookin' like Bozo
You know when I get on this microphone
When I spit upon, my gorilla form
Inside the Church of big reform
Believe when I talk about God
It's nothing like corn-on-the-cob, or Wizard of Oz
It's realer than most of the killin' n' pimpin'
And most of you say what you spit in your bars
Instead of Christian Rapper, you should call me Trail Rapper
I'ma tha boy that's puttin' on from the veil rapper
I'ma put me in a circle of some ill rappers
And now I brag about God, then kill rappers
Whoops, back to the subject
You ain't heard Mayweather beatin' on your subject
Whoopin' on this beat, boy, and I ain't got no gloves yet