Carry On (feat. Joey Bada$$ & Freddie Gibbs)

(This is live and direct) (Others such as myself are trying to carry on tradition) (Carry on tradition) You're static and I'm a selektah Mic check 1, 2, 1, 2 (Carry on tradition) Mic check when a nigga come through Niggas keep it silent Cause we all about that knowledge Besides the fact a nigga never been as swank as me, I like that Until I shine I sit patiently, so light that, I'm folding back, scroll a pack And roll a fatty, smokes heavy, not even over Mad I'm thinking what they probably should have did before I'm on my girls and soaring, foreign under them heels It ain't about the Ralph though, tell your horse chill Don't need to grill to feel like a real nigga If he can't see the light then shine Hilfigers still Six-figure deals with the hell, since the age of six I knew the name would ring a bell In six more years to wonder what the time could tell That's 666 still no signs of a three-sixty deal Neither did I sell myself, Records spinning by they self The DJ tell myself go reflects off the reflex, before I told Flex drop that Semtex on the next New York best This sickest sound, stick around, and we coming for the vets now Can a nigga contest? Maybe if he put his pride aside he could confess, but none the less It's fundamental, we need to fund the mental, wise with the momentum So rise on this momental, so born your inquidentials Watch who you pretend to, and put a potent diamond to fuel If you respect my conglomerate then wait I'm rocking to It's such a prominent tune, but I won't get my roses until I lie on my tomb Flowers (Others such as myself are trying to carry on tradition) (Carry on tradition) You're static and I'm a selektah (This is live and direct) (Carry on tradition) (Nigga that Hennesy) (Nigga that Hennesy) (Nigga that Hennesy) (Nigga that Hennesy) With my lyrical Billy Dee 45 colt Fuck the polices, they raided but they can't find dope If it ain't about money and bitches, nigga what you rhyme for? Work every day in my trap, make what you sign for My niggas is willing to whip that work, it's such a ridiculous feeling You come in your crib and shit don't work Electric, gas and water, you fugazi You mutilated like Pookie at the Carter Jumps the Jackson, this gangsta rapping, nigga respect the father Taking it back to making them pick a switch off the tree Every time you rap or do a show bitch I should pitch off your feet You used to flow 'bout goofy shit Met a G and got on some groupie shit A slave to my rap page, student under my tutelage I'm still taking these boys to school As quick as I build them up, I can just disassemble them Coke and cut the curriculum cousin stayed up in Flint I was shipping this shit to Michigan The black bastard fuck lean [?] I see the bitch in them Copper squad drop a pile on them, I'm steadily shitting on these niggas But i hit them with Freddie Cane, switch up the style on 'em I stretched it out to 250 he got a nine coming [?] night but I'm up as early as five something Chopping boulders, and blowing doldgers so fuck a couple folders Bended corners, and serving yola off of this motorola Sometimes you sacrifice your heart to serve this hard weight Thirty rounds of death from my waist, its baby scarface nigga Yeah I got thirty rounds of death from my waist, its baby scarface nigga I got thirty rounds of death from my waist, its baby scarface nigga (Carry on tradition) (You're statik and I'm a selektah) You know what I'm saying these niggas is rapping around in circles and shit They ain't talking no real shit they ain't really 'bout about it you dig?