quibble with craft,
these gatekeepers en massé,
feed great tweeters with ass on they shoulders,
bullshit in some Folgers,
gas the pyre that smolders with the bones of the older mahhfuckers who came before us,
sell you bangers,
and keep the folder with the Van Gogh,
fuck with me I swear I’ll let the hands go,
and you can catch the fade beneath the shade of that rental,
then body bag ‘er lean dream that left you mental,
its health over wealth just south of central…
(verse 2)
fuck whatchu know,
little known fact I was raised in the go,
feel it on tap, I was made for the show,
illest on map that nobody knows of consequence,
no common sense,
just hop the fence,
I’m past tense of being over looked,
yall niggas shook, its cool tho,
flip ya bone,
keep ya dog,
that’s cujo, chu no like
(chorus)
shoot from the hip
this music’ll dip like bacco spit
pound every round, I load the clip
found our own sound on some Bowie shit
shoot from the hip
this music’ll dip like bacco spit
pound every round, I load the clip
found our own sound on some Bowie shit
(verse 3)
see my soul to be cant believe this,
born from the go y’all shit cant deceive us,
born in the snow y’all niggas caint freeze us,
go too ku y’all niggas fake friezas,
hype to the shit, legit with the mind read,
nigga don’t dip, too swift with the sight read,
trigga don’t trip cant hit what the blind see,
mind free think in a blink of an eye,
that’s smoke to the sky third eye where you find me,
blimey nigga see the figure make it back,
try me nigga meet the hitta out back,
slimy nigga beat the bitter bounce back,
sign me nigga and don’t forget about the pack,
this consider we finna take this shit back, shit back like…
shoot from the hip
this music’ll dip like bacco spit
pound every round, I load the clip
found our own sound on some Bowie shit
shoot from the hip
this music’ll dip like bacco spit
pound every round, I load the clip
found our own sound on some Bowie shit
shoot from the hip
this music’ll dip like bacco spit
pound every round, I load the clip
found our own sound on some Bowie shit
shoot fron the hip,
this msuic’ll dip like bacco spit…
credits
from Black Ego,
released October 12, 2018
prod. The Lasso
Just a beautiful jazzy rap album with buttery smooth flows versed with huge talent. It's not only lovely to the ears, but the lyrics are profound and empowering about the struggles that she faces. zhangtastic