[Intro]
Aiyyo, you betta flee hops, or get your head flown three blocks
L keep rapper's hearts pumpin like Reeboks
And every year I gain clout and my name sprouts
Some brothers'd still be virgins if the crack never came out
I got the wild style, always been a foul child
My guns go BOOM BOOM, and yo' guns go pow-pow
[Verse 1 - Fresh Costello]
Shxt, I'm a lab rat, Me & this beat got chemistry
To bad I'm to rip it, k** it, sh** on it, Human centipede
I got to much flow, too many hoes
To be stressing over one, that's a f**kng Oh no
Lyrically, I'm a terrorist, Better know who you up against
Them guns got aim, I ain't talking instant messaging
You n***as is just f*g bags, Better yet bad acts
Get them n***as out my face before their is some contact
Too many wack n***as thinkin that they can rhyme too
I can't be worried I'm just waiting on the right move
Lost Soul on the rise, And did i forget to mention
My n***as is on a mission, Focused we got precision
Aiming at our goal & that's a shot we won't be missing
Best believe that's a shot I won't be missing
[Hook]
My guns go BOOM BOOM, and yo` guns go pow-pow (X7)
[Verse 2 - BG FiRe]
They may not like me now But you could check out my persona
Flowing so malicious woulda thought I had to throw up
Versitile boy, I'm one of a kind you know
Same kiddo to get on beats and send of off to pluto
I'm new tho, but this beat so what ever
I'm Finna take y'all to the old school era
When tha rockin of gold chains, was high double deckers
And break dancing had y'all feeling hyper than them new 11's But Yeah
Yeah where did that generation went to?
Now a days is its all about matching colors like rubix cubes
But me I'm relaxed, just bumpin to the right song
Feeling like a zebra w. my black and white strips on
I'm ill can't you see right here
From the 90's to the 80's new talent has reappeared
I'm thinking of making it clear So open ya eyes and stare Then watch the souls take off in the air
[Hook]
[Verse 3 - BG FiRe]
Ya girl be throwing it back like foot ball jerseys
And I just Mac like why this b**h so thirsty
Imm outta my lane I'm going insane Outta my brain
Im Running this sh** So, What the f** is u saying
Nah I ain't really mean to get so disrespectful
I pa**ing the mic to my soul let this n***a get you
[Verse 4 - Fresh Costello]
The money is money, Whether its dirty or clean
Either you selling the rock, Or you be chasing ya dream
If they ain't shooting baskets, They Robbins you for your ice cream
And that sh** mean, One hit and you just sight seeing
n***a on some time square sh**
Shout out to my n***a NickFrsh, We taking over this sh**
[Hook]