Don’t Trip, Imma Take It Off Your Hands For You

Nah
Cut the beat I can't rap
This shouldn't surprise you

See y’all run streets I take nations
Y’all want bitches I lick queens
The boy is dead I came back

Declaration
My work shall outlive your name
My planet shall outlive your crown
My skin is older than your color

I’m a trillionaire
You shouldn't exist
I’m broke but your beef feeds me
Drink the astonishment

I topped Olympus with no rope
I’ll go platinum with no music
But keep your Grammy I’m chillin
Keep your fame I’m good
Keep your label I’m averse
This is revolution not The Breakfast Club
I'm busy

I bring burrito bowls with extra guac
To your cage on Gold
And y'all don't tip
You tore the artists down for the view
And what they lost you’re too STUPID to see

The Keeper knows my way is pleasant

You’re the balm to my guilt
My hands are washed
Address me Your Grace
But don’t you kneel or trip

T'as fermé le Louvre
Mais je prends la Bastille
When Judgment comes I'll give the order in Yiddish
The smile will be sweet

Cuz fuck a nickel dime penny farthing
A Diamond’s hardly worth the dirt they dug it from
And reality is worth the trouble
Just ask Carlton

TIME