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YOUR BOY FOR LIFE
„Level 11”
You ain’t on my level but I wish you well
Keep on counting pennies by the wishing well
[Verse 1]
This that shit that you can’t last with
That leather glove and mask shit, the type to get your ass-kicked
Click clack bam shit, shit that you can’t last with
That never love and dap shit, the type to get you bat-shit
So act quick, I’m back bitch
Bitch you must be catfish, why do you got that mac for?
I’m creeping through your back door to blast shit
I’m that kid, that kid from the dance floor
That corner block and crack flow, the one you wouldn’t dance with
Kick back rap quick, bitch I rep that Queens shit
Loaded AR-15 clip with that lyrical machine spit
I back flip attack shit, smoke that spliff get mad lit
Devoted to that green clip, that critical to me shit
That marijuana fiend tip
That big shot you defecating in the summer just to claim your shits hot, well it’s not
I’m that sick, the kid’s hot, you hella funny with that bottle
In the club, tryna make the Cris Rock, head shot
[Hook]
You ain’t on my level but I wish you well
Keep on counting pennies by the wishing well
I’m Level 11 on the Richter Scale
You could never see me, get a life
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
Only lying to yourself
[Verse 2]
This that shit that you will kill for
That shit that you can’t ignore, that itching like a pill whore
Click clack bam shit, shit that you would fight for
That flip and bring a knife or a loaded pistol type for
A night or a day job
This that shit you die for
The type of shit you die for, jumping right off the ninth floor
You tight rope, and miss shit
Bitch this be that type shit, best contender to fight shit
That next Your Boy for Life shit, you might quit
Back for second time I’m at your
Back door with just a Mac, four bats and I crack jaws, I smack y’all
With back paws, the rap boss, don’t wait cut the crap, pause
The black horse with mad force to overturn that course
This that shit that you can’t clone bitch
That run away from home shit, I’m never coming home bitch, I own this
My whole clique, my whole clique we smoke bitch
That cannabis we roll with, the type of smoke to choke bitch, you know this
[Hook]
You ain’t on my level but I wish you well
Keep on counting pennies by the wishing well
I’m Level 11 on the Richter Scale
You could never see me, get a life
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
Only lying to yourself
[Verse 3]
I’m focused, you bluffin’
You wouldn’t be moving pounds if you exchanged your currency out in London
Now, all of a sudden, these motherfuckers are tough and
They wanna run in with a boss that they know nothin’ of, what the hell is the function?
You frontin’? I hit them with a sumo verse
So you could watch me stick my big cock inside of the black hole and fuck the universe
This that shit that you can’t last with
That leather glove and mask shit, the type to get your ass-kicked, I’m back bitch
You ain’t on my level but I wish you well
Keep on counting pennies by the wishing well, wish you well
[Hook]
You ain’t on my level but I wish you well
Keep on counting pennies by the wishing well
I’m Level 11 on the Richter Scale
You could never see me, get a life
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
You coinciding with the mirrors, only lying to yourself
Only lying to yourself
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