Slick Talk

Activate, activate, activate, activate
Activate, activate, you know I'm about to activate
Activate, activate, activate, activate
Activate, activate
(Woah, Kenny)

Activation, activation
Maturation process, rap game too saturated
Grab your lady, masturbation on her face
An acne patient acting patient, so complacent
Comfortable, a basic bowl of shit
Hold my own, I own my dick
Go shalom, I'm unpredictable
And roll with the clique and fold with big clips

I know I'm feelin' activated when I came in this bitch
Claiming the 6, I don't care about being famous and shit
I was a bad little never had, nigga get the bag
Give it back to my fam, boy I am who I am
Hope I don't get in a jam in a jam
Had a dream of eating lamb in the Lam'
And the label come off fam with the ram
Like Martin, Gina, Cole, Tommy, and Pam
Start scheming, boy, you die where you-

Now hear dis! You likkle spit and chew out soundbwoy
You mussi think you can go buy experience a Woolworth!
You mussi think a so King Selassie ah get him crown!
No, no, no!
No, no, no, no way!
You got to work hard for it! (Look, okay)

This the type of shit that have niggas in beef
Dat slick talk followed by some stick talk then sleep
Pissed off, I done took my fifth loss this week
Big dog, I can scratch that shit off like fleas
I got a lotta shit to say, but I'ma keep my list short
I know alotta your favorites not gon' fuck with this part
When I'm done, please know that I was trying to diss y'all
'Cause if this is a competition, then I'm setting this bar

In my city, who's with me? I'm in my own lane, jack
Niggas said JID so flame, I propane rap
I'm from East Atlanta like Gucci and Travis Porter
But my story is similar to the hare and the tortoise
Pen so sharp, told stories, you thought I forged it
Back in the fourth grade, never read Curious Jorge
My nigga Corey kept a little 40 inside his North Face
Left a nigga with no face and beat the court case

Coming home from ball practice, took the street the short way
We from the East, but never gave niggas a reason
To try it or think it's easy, soft pussy niggas eat the sorbet
Or eating your face, or squeeze the heat, then leaving your place
I've been telling you life's a bitch, but it's a beach in your case
I've been yelling and throwing fits, I'm tired of screaming all day
I've been fighting these fucking demons all day
Man, this shit ain't never been easy, maybe I just need a breather

Hand your boy the blower, let me squeeze it
Blow a little steam, I ain't hating, I'm just heated
Niggas know what I mean, but niggas don't know what I been through
So if I offend you then, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh

I heard niggas looking for a problem
But we don't even move until the rent due
My niggas' hands itching, finna rob something
Better pray to God that he don't get you
Better pray to God that he don't get you
Better pray to God that he don't get you
Better pray to God that he don't get you (our Father)
Better pray to God

Look, okay
Fuck what a nigga say or, look, my mama think I made it
Lift my head to the skies, I cry and begin prayer
Thanks to the maker, got me out of an awful place
My nigga gone for 17 years like a cicada
More than a motivator for me to get off my anus
And kick ass like I'm Danny Mainus
Put the pen pad to the paper, big mad with a painting brush
Splish splash, drawing scenes from my dim lit past

Dimwit, pimp shit, syndicate with the pen grip
Ripping shit, intimate, infinite rhyme kicking, l-l-let's begin
Who's your list? Your top 10? You can say whoever better than
I'm ready now, I was ready then, I was headed down the aisle
Rap game in a wedding gown, she gave me the ring
I said, "Yes" and vowed for forever now
On the honeymoon getting naked now
On a money pile doing doggystyle

I'm a father now, and you are my child
Or you aren't my child, I'm on Maury now
And I'm talking loud, the results are found
You are not the, wow, I should kill this bitch like a doggy pound
We divorcing now
I want the cars, ring, clothes, all the house
And you broke my heart, I'm re-organizing
And really trying to be mature about it

But I gotta kill it like a fucking villain
Dream-villain, Spill-villain, rhyme to the ceiling
Would I should I kill a rapper 'cause I coulda
Duh nigga, this a gun and a bullet

I heard niggas looking for a problem
But we don't even move until the rent due
My niggas' hands itching, finna rob something
Better pray to God that he don't get you
Better pray to God that he don't get you
Better pray to God that he don't get you
Better pray to God that he don't get you

Not that I need it
This nigga cap as fuck, man
Ain't no cap in my rap
This super cap in your rap, boy
Where y'all niggas from for real?
Where y'all from? (oohh)



Credits
Writer(s): Destin Route, John Christopher Welch Ii, Kenneth Charles Blume Iii, Charles Carter-callahan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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