Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow

I been gunning off and so I come across as kind of brash

Hand the bag, I make you suffer for your succotash

No one match my bars but Killer Mike and Lupe

Got the hang of Thursday, too late for Tuesday

Been around the block like a cinder, got dropped like Pop did liquor

Never really fit with the misfits but I threw fits, now I throw down hit lists

I had to slap the bag now let me bring it back a bit

Took a shit in your favorite rapper's mansion, and fucked his bitch

Only certain rap fans can kind of handle this

More than a bit ridiculous, ridicule can't hamper this

I got the kind of style make a white bitch at Coachella take her headdress off, protest pipelines on Native land

I am the Stan of Stan's fans, every person with a phone, I call them my cameraman

Turn the camera off before I throw it in the can

You can't monetize my soul, you can't build my fucking brand

I'm the man, I go HAM, cook up eggs like Sam I Am

Y'all done looped a bunch of fruit like you toucans, you too bland

I been banned from the places where they hate for who I am

And I plant my trees in soil that will grow in foreign sand

Why you brag 'bout your money when there's people live in rags

Why you glad, counting what you got like you ain't never lack

I remember all them days when I ain't even pay for gas

Now all I got is this gas, strapping up the fucking mask

I wore that way before we ever had diseases passed

Show up on your block and get harassed, got you snatched

Damn damn damn damn, now I ain't have to go off like that

I ain't have to bring body bags and caskets for you fucking rats

I ain't have to flex so hard on a bitch that she give up that ass

But I do that every day, better get used to that

I been abusing substance, and I got used to that

Bet that you ain't heard a song on which I wasn't trashed

Someone told me it ain't moral, I made someone my ex

Then I got someone new, we do soma and capsules of X

She told me, Scribe, I don't want to admit it but your music's better than sex

Not better than sex with me though, giving up cake like Keto

She let me get in a free throw, ally-oop all on my ego

Leggo my Eggo I'm mentally fucking it up like Eleven upside down

That was a bit of a cheap shot, almost as cheap as your Reboks

I got so many unique thoughts, I got dimensional freak thots

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow like a rifle with my right eye on the bible

Write slow

Send it back, it's been a while

If you're going right back, it's been a while

If you're feeling it right now, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

It's been a while, it's been a long time

Wasted, oh we're wasted