Cinnamon Rolls

I got it backwords
Those trappin bastards are actors
They flex their money, use autotune
And remove the only thing that matters: rapping
I won’t stand for this, damn it
I won’t even sit down
I’d rather lay my ass on the ground
Than listen to another sound-clown
I haven’t been writing for a minute
If time is money, 60 seconds are expensive
Not that I make a dime off these rhymes
I’m just saying, that it really makes a difference
Put your time into what you want
No easy way, no magic wand
Take it day by day, don’t be alarmed
If you fail, the next time you will be armed
By the knowledge of the process
Forget the economics, don’t think about no profit
Just have fun, light your blunt
Write some shit and roll another one
And roll a - (Uh)
Shiver my timbers
My bro is on tinder
I put up my index, my ring
And my middle finger
I say with a smile
Read between the lines
It has been some time
Since I’ve written new rhymes
I am in denial
Of the shit that I find
You call that rapping?
Pff! fine
They asking to switch up my flow
Cinnamon rolls
This is the point where a religion unfolds
Dedicated fans, coming to shows
Rising to the top, you know how it goes
Eat incredible edibles
Understandable, you were told
I was acceptable, but behold
I do a barrel roll, on these flows
I am a really adventurous man
If you’re preference is spending, then damn
I’ve been restless, been counting my grams
I gotta measure, you understand
Smoked all that shit in one weekend
That was new for me, didn’t believe it
I gotta watch out, creating demons
I’m gonna lay off the green for a week and

Take a pause to work
On my English nouns and verbs
After I counted my herbs
And found out my disturbing
Countless burning
Of ounces without learning
Anything at all, locked up in my room
Without returning
To civilization, damn it
I need some nursing
But during this week break
I’ll go back to

Rehearsing my raps
Simple as that
Gotta improve all the way to the max
Then I go back, to smoking my packs
I write when I work, and when I relax, facts
I got a suitable back-pack
Unarguable mad tracks
Pharmaceutical wack crack
Inexcusable flex or brag
Take no affiliation with those
Couldn’t care less about your Gucci clothes
Put all these flexing trappers in a row
Collateral damage, no waste of ammo
I am old-school, I’m using bows
You see a Flash and before you know
You crash to the ground
Spliced by Arrow
I watch too many series
I am a phoenix
Rising from ash of the shit I wrote previous
Eternal happiness is what I am seeking
I’ll find it through rapping, you better believe it
I got a speeding ticket
I play my songs and they really with it
This hip-hop is a beaming business
But that ain’t really in my interest

(talking)
I just wanna make songs
Have fun with it
And that’s what I’m doing
So don’t judge if this ain’t perfect
I’m just messing around
But let’s be honest
This shit is pretty fire right?

All day I’m feeling the vibe
Hear new beats and I just start to write
It doesn’t matter what rhythm, what style
When I am rapping, I’m killing the mic
When I am smoking, I’m feeling allright
Slice my skull open, take a look inside
At the brilliance that is my mind
Those curly lines are writing these rhymes