III :: Lavish

Maneuver stupid and learn why we carry Ruger's
Don't act like you clueless I'm stone cold like medusa
I follow my instincts so I can see right through you
Leave your whole team extinct like the roots of anchusa

Ride with six sticks
Just in case it flips and turn gruesome
Seen some sick shit
Rotting bodies smell like bad tuna

Keep my Bic lit
And thank God for weed like hallelujah
Next generational Tupac my final plan is Cuba

I ain't perfect but alignment just remind me how Buddha
Had to let go of the passion of chasing after the Mula

Let these hoes come to me
If you chase 'em then you gon' lose her
Shoot for the moon but aim for the stars
I ain't talking Luna

If I'm horny shorty gon' blow me
Show me how you work my tuba
Maybe I might dive in and go deeper than any scuba

Then I'm back on my shit cause these hoes is never exclusive
That's the mind games they play so I see through illusions

And planned notes
I take off like a rocket no bazooka
I am smoke
A bong rip
I don't mess with hookahs

Your song skips at regular shows and lollapalooza
My producers turn yakuza on beats and it's been proven

And this shit right here is proof that I'm better than computers
Baby boomers can't compute the fact that rap attacks the past
And abstract black artist have the knack to get cash
And count racks
If the government only gave us a chance

But if we don't got it
We gon' take it to get advanced
Don't fuck with the TikTok dance
It really fucks up the plan

Ain't with history the mystery doomed to repeat again
But this time
Blacks have surpassed the need of supply and demand

I ain't no slave to them niggas or any American
If anybody can break out the then box Jay Lovett can
Progress and it's all a part of the plan
Cause I am the future mother fucking doomer
Recruiter, shooting again