Round #5 - The Punchline Academy, E Ness & Shah Leezy: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

The Punchline Academy, E Ness & Shah Leezy

Round #5

95

Hip-Hop/Rap

Round #5 was released on September 30, 2022 by Get@Em Recordz as a part of the album Round #5 - Single

Song Details

AlbumRound #5 - Single

Release DateSeptember 30, 2022

LabelGet@Em Recordz

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM88

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

The Punchline Academy

The Punchline Academy

Performer

E Ness

Performer

Shah Leezy

Performer

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Boger

Composer

P. Tyler

Composer

Lyrics

Aight, you know what's goin' down right now

SiriusXM, Shade 45, welcome to the Punchline Academy

It's another Thursday of hip-hop (Ayo

Booker), you know the big vibe is goin' down

If you in the middle lane right now, proceed to the left lane

Cruise control activated, you know what's up, I got E Ness

I got Sha Lizzie, I got Larry Ballz, MCs, y'all ready?

Step to the mic, let's do it

Ah, it's just me plus one

I be all by myself when that re-up come

The block hot, I was hopin' they'd just free up some

But baby mama trippin', she won't let me see my son

It's so fast-paced that everything is leavin' a bad taste

But every time they bring my name up, it's a drag race

A **** talkin' to me sideways, I hit backspace

And now I'll lock a fuckin' buckshot through your fat face

You started in the front, but you finished in last place

I only went to school to sell bud to my classmates

I used to get it from my old head, he had mad weight (Ayo, Booker)

But now I help my old head out, he in bad shape, ah

See how the tables turned? The shoe is on the other foot

The peanut butter breath mixed with the bubba kush

But if you reckless, I ball and take another look

Boy, you ain't smart 'cause you got booked and read a couple books

But how you pillow talk if you ain't got no paper?

You could pull a bitch, but you ain't got nowhere to take her

This ain't what you want, you should play with somethin' safer

Then go and kill yourself, that's a favor for a favor

Yeah, the flavor of the month, add to what I make yearly

And what you make is just enough to maintain barely

My new fuck buddy got a ass like Ty Harry

I lose a couple pounds, I could fit in these Amiris

I'm back, it's scary, ****, holler if you hear me

'Cause I was playin' solitaire and sittin' solitary

Rappers wearin' dresses now, too much Tyler Perry

No matter how old she get, I'll still fuck Tyler Berry, woo

If any idol told me, "Keep on dumbin'"

I'd put Reebok and traps on my junkie jumpin'

If I pass it ahead, so don't pass me nothin'

If you don't ask me how much, then don't ask me nothin', let's go

Uh-uh, yeah

Uh-uh, yeah (Ayo, Booker)

Look

In a room full of cheechs, deceits, I keep receipts

Keep my friends close by me, enemies on a leash

When you put your blood into it, watch them leechers try to leech

It be the same contradictors never practice what they preach

But I still let 'em talk, you puppies is all bark

Chew a hole through the wall, when I bite, I leave the marks

That's the difference 'tween the talk and the way a dog walk

I could do this every mornin', this a shit in the park, listen

Fuck how it used to be, I'm ready for what's 'bout to be

Usin' all the fuel that was used to bring the doubt in me

Undoubtedly, taught the class, my math clockin' hourly

See the O's in my bank account, now read it out to me

Fuck playin' games, I'm done bein' monkey in the middle

In a game full of Karens, it's hard to be civil

Skinny big, but when I play, the opposite of little

My album wavy, while y'all drops couldn't cause a ripple

They say they tryin', but they efforts lookin' laughable

Your fans gassin' you, I gotta choke the air out of you

We don't breathe the same, I strive harder than an addict do

Fuck bein' a G.O.A.T., I'm a ram, rare and masterful

Give 'em how I'm livin', here's a peek, my window's tinted

I stuck to my vision, that be lit on the linen

A lot of y'all say y'all want it, really ain't willin' (Ayo, Booker)

Stevie visions steam through the glasses of my mental prison

Keys to my aviation, you caddies lackin' the Escalade

Average Joe's ain't know today's price and yesterday's

Class back in session, money waves at a higher grade

My talent is a fraction, hard work keeps the bills paid

Real hustlers don't sweat losses, keep it at motivation

If your crew laughin' when you down, they was truly hatin'

Then they get surprised, like, "Why ain't I'm back to table cakin'?"

Call it quiet money 'cause you ain't in the conversation

It's Sha Lizzie, the king of the Middle East, what?

Yeah

Ness, huh

Uh

I'm trap or die, I'm unsatisfied

At the game, got me aimin' at the apple of your eye

You, him, her, whoever passin' by

Gettin' in they back and side, so don't be asinine

Yeah, I call my **** son 'cause he shine like one

If you ain't got no money, better go and find some

You know the outcome when my album is platinum

Twenty years later, still lit, how's that? Woo

I get it poppin' on the number two bus

With big Snoop Dogg and his uncle Junebug

I show my crew love, yeah, I got your plane ticket

'Cause me and all my **** just came here to kick it

Buck the backbenzes, triple black, buggy-eyed Benzes

A wink at you, my supply endless

I'm picture perfect, splittin' image of the last dime

Don't take it personal, you caught me at a bad time

Nantucket, I man up, I never ran from it

You might overdose off of one gram of it

Yeah, I'm crooked, I push it to the limit like Tony

And I don't walk around like I'm better than my homies

Ain't no I in team, RedShanick, INC

YHM killer or P.I.M.P

International, international, use all capitals

Could be your favorite artist, any beat jackable, woo

I'm geographical, Southwest Philly

It's rough out there, watch yourself, Big Willie

'Cause **** don't like to hear the truth, but here it goes

I'm gon' fry you **** 'til I'm fifty years old

'Cause when I wear designer, it's like fifty pairs of yours

I got twenty-two questions to ask with air holes, ****

Yeah, uh-huh

It's Sha Lizzie, woah, uh

Punchline Academy, yeah

It's the young Papadopoulos, New York populous

Followin' my quest, better throw on your Oculus

Now who the fuck, ah, 'cause this is poppin' shit?

Pass me down the beef for the cheese, then I'm choppin' it

You know me, the namesake from famed greats, my main state

You a lame wank, you pump fake, I've seen your game tapes

I get dough with crypto at insane rates

Peep my metaverse, it's devil's work when you in my space

A basket case, lost my apples on the money chase

Jumpin' in the coupe, bandit coupe, now I'm crashin' crates

OJ on that white girl, I ain't the type to aggravate

But if looks could kill, I'd steal your dame on an average day

Peep the accolades, they act amazed

You lackadais, tryna copy paste off the lavish map I made

Cockroaches gettin' sprayed with a can of Raid

Lullaby to sleep, I call it the sweet serenade

I got my hand back, upgrade for grips

I fight the fist for dollar hits 'cause open palms never gave me tips

Pressure's made for shoulders, not for hips

All male ain't men, my pops taught me that shit, Sha

Yeah, yeah, it's the king of the Middle East, Sha Lizzie

Ali Baba the album streamin' right now

Last one of the single, go cop that

Stream that, listen to that, do all of that

It's the boy Sha Lizzie signin' out, what up? What?

It's your boy E Ness, make sure y'all

Follow me on the 'Gram, @ness_215

Make sure y'all follow my cheesecake page, @nesscheesecake

@-N-E-S-S-C-H-E-E-S-E-C-A-K-E, 54 Ville ENT

Get your weight up, twan, bing-bong

Written by: Boger, P. Tyler

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