[Intro]
Yea-yea
Funk Volume what up?
[Verse 1: Half Conscious]
Ive come too far, its been too long for me to start looking back
Took the track, and put a "god flow" on it like a "Pusha" rap
Now would you like at that, Half Conscious got "HiiiPoWer"
A couple bars lift you like a crooked hat
Its a new year, no fear and if the beats right
Have you forgetting about "Street Light"
Like..."He's aight"...
"Beamin and Timmy", you "did you", but you ain't even a "semi"
I squeeze til its empty, with an automatic flow
That'll fuck up your body, like you bleed from your kidneys
I'm heated, forgive me, I've been making impaired decisions
'cuz I spent all day Freebasing to Jarren Benton
Which is ironic cuz my rare precision, on these snares and (tst-tst)
And bass. Basically, I'm the face of what you say you be
But every time you tell ya rhymes, we can tell they make believe
Hopsin gon' hear this and be like, "Did he say that, B?"
Fucking right, its "Knock Madness" 'til the day I D-
R-O-P, a hot record on S-H-A-D-E, 4-5
Fuck you too, if you ain't playing me
Play me, save it please, are you slippin' or what?
I'm taking your Top 5 rappers rhymes and rippin' em up
Talk about me not givin' no fucks...
Bitch told me get in the backseat to get nasty
I said bitch get in the trunk
We goin' for a ride, San Fernando Valley, the destination
More like, "Gimme my money or I'm smashing brains in"
Funk Volume, yea I get it, you hot, I admit it I said it
This year it's my time, I can smell it
Like the kush in a "Dizzy" blunt
"Pass it, Yo I said pass it...GIVE ME IT CUNT"
You think I'm fuckin' around?
Blowin' my high, until half the country start bumpin' my sound
I get shit poppin', like I'm dumpin' some rounds
That's "3 z's" eternally, if you ain't heard of me
It's cuz you ain't prepared for the lyrical surgery
I perform, on this microphone, son I could form..
A fucking army outta syllables
Then let it storm, on something biblical
I'm giving you, the "All-Time classic" flow like a fault-line hazard
So fall back, or get ya jaw line cracked wit
Superior deteriorating, vernacular, got ya inferior, shakin'
Barriers breakin', ya exterior achin', interior prayin' for saviors
No saving ya familias faces
Ima go from rocking stages, to Vegas
Til the day I blow up and rock nations, on "Roc Nation"
On some "HOV" shit, climb til I'm wealthy
Half these contestants say they flow sick, but they just unhealthy
Take a break dog, dig a hole, til ya wake dog
Or pick up a new hustle, up ya weight dog
What else is left to say though? (shoutout to Kato)
I could waste a couple bars on a contest I won't even get 250 votes for
It goes to show, you don't gotta be hot, the wack get chauffeured
Guys who spit that crack get shelved and no turn, with nothing to show for
It's a slow burn, and a ride to failure
Are you smart enough to give it up before the road turn?
Paraphernalia lettin' my throat burn, hell yeah I'm inhalin'
Smoke out til the end of the beat catchin' the feelin'
Shit I'm happy, just chillin', I can't complain
Looking back at me and Hoppa drinking beers in Bangor, Maine
Like... U.O.E.N.O
Ima rapper, and It's a damn shame
Fuck it tho
