Sterling

Water-gunning, wetting bodies like a sauna
I stay god of nothing, armored arcana-hustling, tarot carder, like mystical pledgings of CP
Believing me, when I tell him my weed’s depleted & I need something to soothe these screams
I pause for applause & back talk, attention getter is crack off a Black Cat, then unstrap my dad’s gat, go “rat, tat!”
Ragged & battered I stack, cadavers in rows, back to the back if you acting an ass, when I be slashing a flow
Hannibal snacks you pitiful ashen, minuscule rappin, ridicule having hoes
Get in the cavern, suffer the pattern, rubbed in and slathered in blood of the ghost, uh
Well toke-age, is so delicious, & your flow it is all just a load of pernicious hope, & I can open the coded entrance, to the home I live in, with my phone & envision my time alone in these catacombs, yo!
I’m the master P, to the I M P, got the iron greaves & a mighty swing, let’s go
I eat these seeds & call her in the morning
I eat these seeds & call her in the morning
Top of the food chain like Tyrannosaurus
Like some vermouth drained, I loosen & soothe things, so let me excuse flames, aight, hand me the chorus...

& I want it to be, stupendous & super lit & sorry this is the pre-
Chorus I had to detour a bit, so let me see, the desolate inner me, get forever ready history’s repeating

Everything I’m reading leads me to believe this doesn’t really make a fuck, no
Any kind of speech is, free in this city, where they just hit em til the blood shows
Best to mind your manners when you stand in presence of the gospel
So, we hit em til the blood shows, sit em in a pothole living & run off slow...

Just as I appear before the mirror like a juxtaposed endearing kid but also fearfully incensed, when senses flicked by ignorance, incidents are a tempest shit, I’m indifferent now, got a different doubt but this the pits
Like a puppy, yo, ruining everything in your fucking home, when I come in it with the bucking chrome, & erupt the busts on the mantle & smother candles with the smut I spoke, uttering the chants of the underworld like a thug in cloak, uh, I don’t know
I could write a flow about some whitey rappers but the fact is I’m in no
I’m in no condition to make opposition but positioned firmly on the throne, heard me hoe, firmly on the throne, I’m sterling with it, yo!

& I want it to be, stupendous & super lit & sorry this is the pre-
Chorus I had to detour a bit, so let me see, the desolate inner me, get forever ready history’s repeating

Everything I’m reading leads me to believe this doesn’t really make a fuck no
Any kind of speech is, free in this city, where they just hit em til the blood shows
Best to mind your manners when you stand in presence of the gospel
So, we hit em til the blood shows, sit em in a pothole living & run off slow...