Excalibur

Go write little Landon write, write Go write little Landon write, write Go write little Landon write, write Go write little Landon write, write Go write little Landon write, write Go write little Landon write, write Go write little Landon write Back when I was tappin' on them tables I was 15 Tryna write a 16, I swore to God my shit clean Hoodie on like Jedi, forces lookin' very mean Shoppin' on my lunch breaks, workin' at that Dairy Queen Tryna write some cleva lines just for some honeys A couple dummy metaphors like I be swimmin' in money So I'm busy flippin' 'em pages, bumpin' instrumental playlists When two haters rolled up on my table, knew it 'cause the bench was shakin' Sayin' this 'n' that, like what you doin'? (Who the fuck are you?) Snatched the shit up out my hand, I'm ready like a cardinal Second guessin', further assessin' I heard they mess with weapons If I don't impress 'em they might jump me when class ain't in session Started clownin' me, no bitchin' but still they houndin' me They playin' keep away with my spiral, the shit was foul to me Teacher rolled up on 'em scoldin' 'em to take a seat Tucked my shit up in they shirts, laughin' while they up 'n' leave, this them Study Hall sessions I'm tryna kill with precision, so every day I wield the pen like a weapon My shit Excalibur, swingin' it with minimal energy Feelin' like I'm finna conquer my enemies I'm thinkin' bout them Study Hall sessions Didn't know a damn thing and now they see me flowin' the damn thing It feels like it was yesterday, long before I got up in The Spot Tuck my anger up in every line I jot, but at least I got them Study Hall sessions, all aggression in my cadence My daddy steady deployed, so my mama would practice patience She noticed the change in clothin' and how I sway when I'm strollin' I fell in love with that image 'til I realized it was stolen Ok, back to that table while I'm twitchin', palms itchin' Tryna fantasize a perfect killin', while these muthafuckas grinnin' Hypocrites, flippin' through my shit, tryna critic it Which is kinda funny, coulda swore they was illiterate Lookin' back I chock it up to ignorance How the hell was they supposed to know I would kill this shit And I been shakin' famous hands and neva for benefits I'd rather ask 'em later when I'm rich to remember it So this'll be the track, the metaphorical smack I shoulda laid on them cats, but didn't and stuck to rappin' And now I'm finally snappin', Plain and Simple got the map Ain't no man can take ya vision so, why the fuck I'm reminiscin' back? To them Study Hall sessions I'm tryna kill with precision, so every day I wield the pen like a weapon My shit Excalibur, swingin' it with minimal energy Feelin' like I'm finna conquer my enemies I'm thinkin' bout them Study Hall sessions Didn't know a damn thing and now they see me flowin' the damn thing It feels like it was yesterday, long before I got up in The Spot Tuck my anger up in every line I jot, but at least I got them Study Hall sessions Go write little Landon write, write- (He said this and she said that) Go write little Landon write, write- (I said, he said this and then she said that but fuck 'em) Go write little Landon write, write- (He said this and she said that but fuck 'em) Go write little Landon write, write- (Fuck 'em) Go write little Landon write, write- (Fuck 'em) Go write little Landon write, write- (Fuck 'em) Go write little Landon write, write- (Fuck 'em) Go write