Penny
I came back with the pads like I'm doing two a days
Closed fists, back to his David Tua ways
The illest whoever did it, I blaze through a maze
Then I blaze high grade bud in Makua cave
its The Uce, the mickey's ice 40 ounce sipper
The dapper dan in his bandanna house slippers
I leave the spot fuming, I'm hot enough to leave the block ruined
They say the way I spit is not human
I must be a rare breed, apparently I'm an elite level writer
And this rap shit is therapy
It's evident I'm in my own league
I'm on the parquet while spectating from the nose bleeds
My flows met with any supposed threat
I direct action like it's a closed set
Then when I yell cut, fade out and roll credits
Unrated version with guts and no edits
It's The Uce
More heat is what you fiend for
I'm from the project cribs with linoleum floors and metal screen doors
My lullabies was the sirens from one time
Quiet nights had us waiting for the sunshine
I'm from the situation cat's would get trapped in
This was the setting I perfected my craft in
I know you fuck boys actively acting
That sig finna leave half your wig cracked in
Promote peace when you dealing with a beast though
Mephisto, I'm devilish with a free flow
Pull out a piece, then I go into a speech
With myself like Karl Malone dribbling at the free throw
Is he possessed with a mic and pen
I was young popping Xanax and Vicodin
Shit was fucking with my words had me fumbling gems
So I swore I'd never get up on that hype again
It's the god from that Eyesoulated squadron a diety
Fucking hoes in one of them air b&b's
No heir to the throne, nobody seeing me
A raw diet of bone marrow and Creatine
Lyricism watch your ass get gassed
You consider my raps as a nuclear blast
I'm something like when natural disasters crash
At the pinnacle of poetry the master class
Got the challenge from my brother said come on man get it
The torch getting passed I showed up and ran with it
I never tripped off legends who slept on The Uce
Cause I saw it in the stone and now I command digits
I'm working on a screenplay fuck your award
Story telling is my forte, my pen is a sword
Mentally I'm in my own lane pray to the lord
You ain't gotta pay a price that you couldn't afford bitch
When slo-mo step foot on your set
Money and life, one of them I am here to collect
I don't wanna hear you beg, see you hitting the deck
Take your bullet like a man and go out with respect
Closed fists, back to his David Tua ways
The illest whoever did it, I blaze through a maze
Then I blaze high grade bud in Makua cave
its The Uce, the mickey's ice 40 ounce sipper
The dapper dan in his bandanna house slippers
I leave the spot fuming, I'm hot enough to leave the block ruined
They say the way I spit is not human
I must be a rare breed, apparently I'm an elite level writer
And this rap shit is therapy
It's evident I'm in my own league
I'm on the parquet while spectating from the nose bleeds
My flows met with any supposed threat
I direct action like it's a closed set
Then when I yell cut, fade out and roll credits
Unrated version with guts and no edits
It's The Uce
More heat is what you fiend for
I'm from the project cribs with linoleum floors and metal screen doors
My lullabies was the sirens from one time
Quiet nights had us waiting for the sunshine
I'm from the situation cat's would get trapped in
This was the setting I perfected my craft in
I know you fuck boys actively acting
That sig finna leave half your wig cracked in
Promote peace when you dealing with a beast though
Mephisto, I'm devilish with a free flow
Pull out a piece, then I go into a speech
With myself like Karl Malone dribbling at the free throw
Is he possessed with a mic and pen
I was young popping Xanax and Vicodin
Shit was fucking with my words had me fumbling gems
So I swore I'd never get up on that hype again
It's the god from that Eyesoulated squadron a diety
Fucking hoes in one of them air b&b's
No heir to the throne, nobody seeing me
A raw diet of bone marrow and Creatine
Lyricism watch your ass get gassed
You consider my raps as a nuclear blast
I'm something like when natural disasters crash
At the pinnacle of poetry the master class
Got the challenge from my brother said come on man get it
The torch getting passed I showed up and ran with it
I never tripped off legends who slept on The Uce
Cause I saw it in the stone and now I command digits
I'm working on a screenplay fuck your award
Story telling is my forte, my pen is a sword
Mentally I'm in my own lane pray to the lord
You ain't gotta pay a price that you couldn't afford bitch
When slo-mo step foot on your set
Money and life, one of them I am here to collect
I don't wanna hear you beg, see you hitting the deck
Take your bullet like a man and go out with respect
Credits
Writer(s): Benjamin Tafao
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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