Proving

[Intro]

You’ve been proving yourself to me, Lord

[Chorus]

Keep on (Proving)
Proving yourself (Just Keep On)
Keep on (Proving)
Proving yourself to me (Lord)

[Verse 1]

Haters sayin Duck yo you can’t rap
Labels saying Duck Tape need more than that
Niggas is trippin
Bitches is trippin
Muthafuckas feel it when I spit that
Niggas don’t want no heat ya better drop back
I got way more than books in this backpack
With these words I be flippin
Muthafuckas is slippin
Say you bout it bout it
Psssh
Doubt that
Said I spit dope shit
But I can’t make hit
So they wanna take a split
Independent profit
Filling they pocket
Like a gold digging bitch
Like a beat without a kick
That don’t make no sense
You niggas don’t know my grind
How much of my faith is blind
Understand that frame of mind
5 AM up writing these rhymes
Nigga don’t cook
Then a nigga don’t eat
Gotta finish this hook
So fuck some sleep
Little black book
Last thing I need
Is a bitch texting me
WYD
You know what that means
She wants me to see her
Swallow my genes
Like a true trap queen
Need to be weaned
Of her dopamine
I'm like a dope fiend
And it’s killing my dreams
Eating at my soul, like a locust
Gotta achieve these goals, so I’m focused
That’s why my rhymes, are so atrocious
One year with these lines, so precocious
Haters be tripping
Labels be trippin
Showing off for you niggas so you see that Duck is real
I know you amazed
How I set these phrases ablaze
I got these stories for days
With these scars that never healed

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]

Said I got something to prove
Cause my lines done improved
From rapping so rude
To writing smooth grooves
That’ll make ya body move
That’ll make ya soul soothe
So I would be behooved
If ya’ll did approve
Deep down I really don’t care
Attitude so laissez faire
No comp this a game of solitaire
Duck’s rhymes is the new Lord’s prayer
Fuck Geraldo, this ain’t meant for you to get
This is true hip-hop, lyrics getting worshipped
And the sins of Alphonse
Is how you got on
So for decades now, you been poaching immigrants
You a 70 year old troll
Who the white man controls
Who done sold half his soul
Just to reach his goals
Screaming gun control
Throw the niggas in the hole
But the problem was at home
For Roof and Klebold
Only Dylan that gets us is Bob
Understands why a nigga might rob
Our Daddy’s ain’t throwing no lobs
Our buildings ain’t got no key fobs
But the gig is up
Ya’ll don’t give a fuck
You tried to fool the Duck
By saying DorianSucks
Mouth ain’t never shut
So gon and take a cut
To feed ya butts
Feed Ya guts
Pay for huts
And ya sluts huh
We know how ya’ll get down
On the road when ya wife ain't around
Backpage looking for a pretty round
Won’t make a sound
About how you turn around
Too soon for that
Too early in the tracks
To peel the layers back
My mind goes black
On a full blown attack
Rat-a-tat-tat
Clicky-clack-clack
When this Ducky goes quack