Drift

God needs love, driven loose from a hurt place
Slow recovery, but I still make it to first place
Can you skip the bullshit and get out of the way?
The shit you write since my shit back in the 3rd grade
Mind of a devil, heart of a priest
The rap game is heating up, but we're 'bout ready to feast
Y'all some chicks, but I'm about to bring a treat
So much confidence, you can't take it there, feet
Revision of a false hope that's become untrue
Coming on the scene like a fire, spitting like the flu
There is nothing else for these rappers to do
Lyrics, let's see, they take the game without a ****ing clue
Whatever I got on my mind will be on the scene
Hop and spit the aftermath, but you know we stay clean
In the booth, correcting this complicated dream
Hip-Hop is a ****ing party that I'll never ever leave
****ing yo' bitch, that's what I do
Talkin' that shit, nigga the truth
Beam motha****in' buck, that's what I do
Come through with the motha****in' crew
Shoot up yo' home, spray for yo' dome
Nigga on the internet, call me Google Chrome
Oh shit, spittin' hot lyrics
Got yo' bitch, sitting on my dickins
Nigga you ain't shit, chop your head off like a chicken
Then a nigga come through and I ****in' yo bitchit
Pull out that TEC, shoot at your neck
Go meet yo' mama, gimme some sex
Nigga come through old times T-Rex
And I get yo bitch and she call me the next
Greatest, ****in' rapper
Nigga I'ma trapper, nigga I'ma rapper
Niggas like some candy,
Then I gotta take off the ****in' wrapper
Nigga you suck, **** your bitch in her motha****in' butt
Nigga come through and I'm in the ****in' cut
With the motha****in' nine, sitting at your neck
Talk all that shit, nigga, you next
(What the ****!)
He really say, "Evil we crave"
Rolling down that lane
For the fog, that Range Rover
And these bitches still wanna tango
Lay low, stay, hoe
But you bitches don't wanna obey, though
.44 up to yo' head, slit your throat, and you dead
Justin reawaken, now my soul rely on Satan
Don't get me mis-mistaken, I'll never be forsaken
As long as I'm baking these rappers' careers
I don't give a **** if you ever tear
Your rap career is to a near
Tay-K out the cut, pretty eager for action
Wack you with the paden, now you look like a catfish
The rims on my NASCAR, sparking the classics
I need a new strap, let me hit my blacksmith
Coughin' on this Tropic, but she say it's attractive
Trap boy livin', man, this shit is fantastic
This shit is underground, but it's not red faction
I'm really not with the actin'
Yeah, shout-out to them Daytona niggas
My nigga Jose, my nigga Yung Kody, my nigga El Gloom
My nigga Easy B Doe, Carlos, Caleb, Top Man
You know that young Mike Jones Junior
You already know PiMPYZ, nigga
We coming up nigga, yuh! (Applause!)
SKRT SKRT SKRT SKRT! (Hell nah)
Gang (Alright, we done with this, man?)