Dance With the Devil

When I ain't being a mogul and making hella music
I like cooking at home, the shit is therapeutic
I wore pajamas to school so I could sleep on niggas
But they was lucky, I'm usually the grave digger
Wizard illicit, explicit, and if they do a test for the ballistics it's a matter of advanced physics
I hustle hard in the hood cuz I'm the Ace
The fiends don't want brack, they want bass!
Then i get in my ziploc & rally the bitties
Form a line on the under and finale your series, fimme
I'm all about my scratch & so I grind with friction
Ask Quavo, I dab with conviction
Issa, real spiritual negro, iller than every rapper that professor X could find on cerebro
We go on, to Brook Lee on and beyond
Niggas talk shit but get read like quarans
Begone

I heard you say that every black man was trash
I should've never felt bad about, lookin at that ass
Shit had me woken, something to get my 3rd eye open
I could see clearly now, all the antelopes and cantaloupes &
Bitch I woulda killed for you, I'll still kill for you
I'll take what you never believed you'd see and make it real for you
Yeah, and you don't stop
Madwiz break me down with the motherfuckin 4 pound
I checks in like Michel Che & Colin Jost
You know the rhymes are rated E, for eastcoast
Dot Demo said the Bronx is fuckin with me
So if I need favors I'm headed uptown swiftly
Bitches be, hitting the jack, is you shitting me
I'm chilling in Italy, you want me to sip thee
Girl I'm on the first thing smoking
You thought I was a Fuckboi, but not I got you open

I'm reminiscing as I'm sitting watching big cass and Enzo
At age nine I watched 9/11 from the window
I popped champagne when I got my girl number
But we divorced so now I only suck her pussy when it thunders
Y'all gon get it twisted later but whatever
WZA the love baby I'm a hunter for the heathers
I have wanted her forever, stayed blunted like forever
She said meet her halfway, and I was coming like forever
(Forever) oh!, yes
I slid up in the club with no vest, only dressed for the streetsex
Goddamn if I don't hit you in the heart
No matter how far we drift apart, I'm gon March
Honey glazed, no tomatoes no mayonnaise
Salt and pepper oil and vinegar
My combinations is wicked plus I know all my finishers
Listen Linda, without sex I get sinister
Fuck the niggas who op-press the women
And the cops, fighting to protect racism
And I might sound a little hypocritical at times
But if I spit shit like this, it's the best of my rhymes