My lyrical math, quizzical path
Oher acts when they watching me rap, panic attack
That’s a fact, keep playing it back, looking for gaps
If you’re looking for gaps, look at the stats of the rich and the poor
These are cynical pacts, cannot relax
So i’m flipping the rats like i’m a trap with the cheese
And this finna attract, the whack clout emcees
Only chasing the bag, so i can smack all the crap that they’re yapping about
Fap in their mouth, flapping about
And they c#mming up with pitiful sh#t, i got a doubt
If you telling me whats raps about, must have a crowd
But i see a missing d in your clout
I got no doubt, why your stream in a drought
Dreaming about, knocking us out,
Locking up the game in the mud, call me nadal
Keep it tight like i’m king of clay, sticking around,
So bright, if the sun want a day, turn up my sound
Even mangoes are out, f#cking about, they’re like nio on stage
Ain’t got no doubt, that thе summer is out, put on your shades
So what did you say? we got no scеne?
Boy, i need you to pray, or i will alter your way, or you will pay
Every day, for the words that you speak, cuz i will come with this
Lyrics pain, f#ck up your brain, like woah!
You will know, you’re a dumb mother-f#cker
Cuz you cannot relate, you are no brother, so what can i say
Your whack attack on how the f#ck we should rap
Are as bad as your tracks, gotta sub-track you from the map
You dont know where were the deccan at
Cuz you at the back like a bag pack, you ain’t with the pack
And the fact that you wanna preach rap is mad-cap
Cuz you ain’t got a track worth giving a fack
Never forget everybody really hustlin’ mad
I got the city on my back, like i’m hanuman
What’s dope is dope, what’s not is not
Everybody shut the f#ck up, oh my god!
I dont give a f#ck about your stupid thoughts
Everybody gets to make their vision large
The scene is big your brain is not
I dont give a f#ck about your rap gods
Well wait, what’s your name? yeah i forgot
Who gives a f#ck your songs they’re gonna rot
Boy with a plan, i got my jam on the spin
Call me radio-man, don’t a damn, let it stream
Call it rado on hands, i put the time on my wrist
So my writing is ham, i got the rhymes in a twist
Energy clan, i got my can with the wings
Your energy band, you are not fit for this bit
You’re telling me, man! we got no hits in sh#t
But i water my plants with a bowl full of hits
I got me properly locked in for greatness
Your lottery ain’t gonna cut it
You’re making a mockery, contrary to your belief
We got sorcery, potter-ry spell on your vision of poverty
Look at your face i just wiped off your snobbery
We got the gold, you can come for the robbery
Step in the ring and you’ll marry my slaughter
Done with this sh#t, get out of my property!
Aye yeah, get out of my property
Out of my, out of my, get out of my property
Yeah, yeah, get out of my property
Out of my, out of my, get out of my property
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate and an Apple Partner, we earn from qualifying purchases
Nio Endo Lyrics – Lyrical Math