Professor F

[Intro: Fashawn]
Uh, the maturation of Shawn, ah...

[Verse 1: Fashawn]
Speed the shit to get you open wide
Roll a couple more kush, blow your high
Who's that nigga? Don't be surprised
It be that Young F from the far left side
And we ball like Kenny Latimore
If time is money, then there's nothing that I can't afford
Reminiscing when I had a whore
Put through more bullshit than a matador
So it was either money or monogamy
Running with a monopoly, death over dishonesty
And yes, I confess I smoke a lot of weed
Heck, I'm vexed, when will the drama cease?
Huh, maybe in my absence
All I seem to hear is "I'm crazier than your average"
I don't vacate, I hibernate
Awake, just to defecate on your siphon space

[Verse 2: Fashawn]
Yo, far from a 5 percenter
Tote 5s to survive the winter
A nightmare to you rhyme beginners
You light years behind, admit it
Nigga speed up, cause we over the limit
The weed crushed, and so is the linen
A K.O. and I'm finished, grab a hold of the 'Chemist
I'm controlling the rhyme, he's controlling the rhythm
I just focus my energy and channel it
Hit them like fingertips on a mandolin
My manuscripts is scripture for niggas who's scrambling
Running red lights like ambulances
Analysis of a G, who found his way out the street
What you make in a month, he's counting in a week
Never saw defeat like I was born obese
Usually, victory doesn't sound this sweet, uh

[Verse 3: Fashawn]
They might never understand the flow
However, I don't plan on peddling grams and O's forever
No, expand while they expire
Fourth quarter, still in the game while the rest tired (Hey what's wrong with y'all?)
Tell me where your stamina at, Pa?
Ball so hard, slap my hand on the background
And this is how real rap feel
Watch these new-era cats get their caps peeled
I'm a Maybach, you're a seat class
You're catching heat rash, trying to be Fash
Making ministers mad, commit a sin and I laugh
I'm on a sinister path, uh
Really? it's as simple as math
Addition, subtraction; dealing with an assassin, nigga
Ashes to ashes, your ass is finished
You'd never clash with a master, a massive riddance
Matter of fact, all you bastards should ask permission
'Fore I react, in that classic Shields Ave tradition
Staff gets toe-tagged once we pass the entrance
I'm bad like Mike's dad, Joe Jackson niggas
Disrespect 'Pac, get that ass a whipping
Smack-dab in the middle of the lab inventing
Forget swag, I ain't got half the ism
I'm all natural, and that's the difference
Motherfucker, it's F

[Outro: Fashawn]
Uh, rest in peace, Heavy D
Young niggas smoking dope
This J is for you
Heyo O, I told these niggas man
Relax your body, let your conscience be free
Rocking with the sounds of the A.L.C

[Interlude: Sample]
"For a prayer, we must make:
Father, God, I am just learning how to pray
Bare with me
First I thank you for the life of our pivotal savior..."