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gambit - just bars (prod. thief) lyrics
i undergo a metamorphosis, adrenaline coursing
in every endorphin whenever i begin the recording
penning in elements, well i’m swell at this every morning
eventually touring sh-r- to sh-r-, till then i been snoring
i’ve never been friends with more than a quarter of four real emcees
so we can be buddies but it doesn’t mean your f-ckin’ lyrics deep
i really can freak and beat up a beat whenever i steal with the thief
so maybe you’re taking your reputation way too seriously
you feeling me? i be up and i’m really speaking
i’m geeking but you have no eyedea my abilities
the leader of my facility, will i be impressed with the filth i see?
prolly not you novices jocking the mic to reveal you’re weak
i’m bored with you, i’m sticking with the boiler room
put on my garden gloves, getting more hoes than a mormon do
of course you’re blue, ho-rs- and remorseful
when i tore the boom- bap apart
you rappers are plastic, i’m born to torture you
you really don’t want it to be a lot of the beef if caught up with me
i gotta be stomping it clean predominantly whenever you’re starting it, b
when i get a bothering i can be kind of a mean spirit
you hear it? i’m honestly godly kid, fall upon your knees
1:03 so what are you tryna be besides the glee club captain?
you even sucked a lot of the d before your team was rapping
making the wack kids obsolete and probably snapping
attack ’em with battle axes till i’m the last on the axis
and that’s it, the jig is up
really i don’t give a f-ck
so if you feel the same then get waving and put your fingers up
see i’ve been getting buck, though i’m not really getting bucks
oh deer, the coast’s clear, i don’t fear you sitting ducks
isn’t i insidious when i bust? kid i must be
you acting like i’m rapping at maximum? sh-t, i’m rusty
you crabs are acting crusty, don’t f-ck with me buddy, trust me
i’m l-sting for blood and hungry, just might have to eat you up see?
give me a minute when half asleep, diminish the air that i have to breathe
do whatever you gotta be, i’ma be still crafting a masterpiece
whoever said the gr-ss is greener and cleaner
over there apparently never seen the other side of the trash heap
i keep seeing people claim to be woke that act sheep
but just because you roll with wolves don’t mean you’re in the pack g
so while you’re borrowing cash for gas for your dad’s jeep
i’m casually posted in lavish limos in the back seat
that or i’m driving a scr-pper pile of cr-p
and going back and forth from rocking to mediocrity just like that
one minute i’m giving a k!ller performance and touring
the next i’m dying of boredom trying to score tiny morsels like, “what? i rap?”
f-ck it, i love it, i’m picking the pen up for the fun of it
making a fool of me truly any time i’m in public
when i rhyme i’m insufferable, one tough little son of a b-tch
who’d get a compet-tor p-ssed at any event whenever and get ‘em to quit
yup, i do flex, i’m too vexed if you’re hard
but i’ve been tuff with two f’s since i got my first report card
son, i’m more raw than pork off the bone slaughtered
seconds ago, still tryna draw breath although its own throat’s sawed up
colder than snow water, but homie n-body’s hotter
i told you, i’m supernova exploding over you squalors
a ronin going alone and knowing he’d grown his own honor
don’t bother approaching, i’ll leave a teetering foe tottered
hah, it’s like that
go play with your ipad
the minute i’m settling into the set i’ma never be giving the mic back
my weakest frees easily beat your peaking climax
so fight back, you’ll find that you’re finna be sent on a flight path
i rap with intention, to create a great invention
you can replay again and again over your engines into ascension
the breadwinner, i been iller than ten illidans
mention i got a head bigger than ben stiller
you best give him attention
bring it back when i kick that rap
breath so bad i’ma need a tic-tac
beat it competing when i’m impeding all the people
got ‘em bleeding defeated when i’ma spit that crack
lick this sack and my big d-ck
yeah the kid’s sick when i sit and nitpick the track
let me get a little minute to deliver the sentiment
that you been about as threatening as picnic snacks
it’s sad, nitwits thinking they’re big sh-t
when they get a little pat on the back
slap on the rag, back on the pad
wack and a cr-p rapper that lack on a track
got a knack to react
i don’t gotta ask to enact an attack
why they gotta blather ’bout a swagger
scatter ‘fore i’m cracking your neck with a bat
so what it do winnie the f-ckin’ pooh?
whats up with you?
your buckle’s always set to “m” for mini, sh-t, i’m double you
doesn’t it trouble you sucking so f-ckin’ much boo boo?
believe me, even hubble can’t see me, i bring the ruckus fool
slamming a cold one, i’m pr-ne to bring pandemonium
told you i’m vegito and broly mixing with obi-wan
’till i am the only one holding a microphone
i come throwing bunches of punches, you punks are lunches
it’s over son
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