This Game

Any sane brain will complain
And fail to this and bail, son
But I can tap a vein
Power through the pain
Rain like a f---ing rail gun

Cause my style's
Never been out of style
It's the divine style
Better believe that!
You're facile as a missile
Don't stockpile—
Never gonna need that

My brainchild is ignateous
It's lit and fit to lead the nations
I'm thinkin' I can make a proclamation
If you dig it, you must sing it
You must take it close to the heart
Blows to the heart, master the art
It's not about being faster
Or a misogynous bastard
I'm ad astra

This game's got a hold on me
(I can I can cut like a f---in' knife when the rhythm calls me!)
Taking your baby formula
Breaking you'll make you humbler

No apology
(I can I can slash like a f---in' scythe nothing ever dulls me!)
Rein in those who brag a lot
Reign down like the Jagannath

Got a metronome glued to my dome
Like a pacemaker
(Bass shaker)
Read the mosaic—I
Can bend the beat like a voltaic arc

Some fake hard
But they got the boy in 'em make 'em brittle
Don't remember ever being "Little"
Keep my inner Beat Boy in the middle

Touched by the God of Madness
When I fatten this
I'm gonna patent this
I'm gonna practice
On your wackness
Like the female praying mantis

Better back this up
With a bigger groove
Feign a bigger move
Find a better proof
Yeah, I'm the Beta Wolf
Who snapped your Alpha in half
And I'm not sorry!



Credits
Writer(s): Gom Jabbar, Plamen Arnaudov
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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