ART DEALER

[Verse 1: Ransom]
There Ran go
Vividly paintin' pictures like Van Gogh
Schwarzenegger on the canvas and hands on command, though
I'm Thanos, destroyin' the world, we know every hand stroke
These paragraphs I splash on paper helps keep the fans close
Cinematic with the palette, every word is too movie-like
The moody type, too real for the weak complaints and your bougie gripes
All these artists ranked over Ran, but it's usually hype
Now it's uniform to erase mistakеs and remove your stripes
Slavеs to the hashtag, produce for the masters
Twenty lashes to them Fascists who's afraid of all that backlash
That's facts, all these thoughts that I have gotta be abstract
I think I'm in the future, but now I'm tryna get past that
I'm Jean-Michel but gone psycho, a strong maestro
Puttin' words together, I'm mergin' letters, perform typos
On a search for treasure, my verses measure a lord light show
Jordan, Jackson, Tyson as far as these mics go

[Verse 2: Nick Grant]
All you niggas swear you hotboys, but we ain't fearin' hype
Your hard drive got my whole style, that's a terra-bite
A cold man, sittin' on money taller than Gary height
Know this street shit gets deep as the voice on Barry White
Don't like to see you winnin', that hater swallow the love
Niggas never hold the convo as long as they hold a grudge
Rainin' in the Dirty South, I got this shit out the mud
Ayy, bitch, come see about the D, I give her all the above
Niggas takin' chances 'cause they don't wanna live like they parents
Niggas' egos runnin' wild 'cause they trauma don't like you starin'
Money, violence hand-in-hand, I'm just hopin' somebody prayin'
The flow one in a million, I'll leave you right where you stand
They know that I'm the best, but they won't pay me a thing
Funny, 'cause if I die, the same niggas gon' label me king
A nigga chasin' his dreams, but I'm runnin' from fame
While some are chauffeured through life, boy, I'm driven by pain
I belong here, shinin' like a bald head
Fold you like a lawn chair, project nigga, no fear
I ain't never lied to you, lyrically, I'm Paul Pierce
I'ma last a lifetime, they come and go like dog years
I'm sorry, how we livin' has no storybook ending
Coupe with the frog eyes, I pull up and kiss your princess
But mama never had it, can't imagine niggas' struggles
Gotta fuck a set of twins for every time I worked a double
Middle finger, nigga, fuck you, church babies, but we hustlin'
Catch a body, but they never confess about it, word to Usher
Project baby, dirty, musty
Chop the work up like I'm Dilla
Chop the work up, make a slushy
Black nigga, the stick Russian
Niggas forgot about the real doin' all that dick guzzlin'
No compliment to get from me, gotta keep the hits comin'
I like a big body Benz, I like a Southern thick woman
Wanna raise her kids country
Carolina nigga, what nigga want it?