Part Three

Yo I'm just chilling out while my ops drugged out
Secrets Spilling out
I write raps that attack your cerebrum
Put on the headphones ill leave you bleeding out your eardrum
As I hit the mic they thinking its a crack pipe
Serve you up with some tracks
I drop crack that's facts
Get the fuck back lil bitch
Get Scalped With this tomahawk
What's a slob to a g
Walk in this motherfucker its all eyes on me

Don't worry about me
Don't worry about me
Don't worry about me
Don't worry about me
Don't worry about me

Here I come with verse two
I bet you though it was all about you
Fuck no I got haters of my own
Sitting back on my throne
Makin beats smoking dro
Off the tape deck
Had to check it was whack
Dressed in all black
Slaying reapers
Ain't nothing in the woods besides creatures
No matter what I write
Still got to hypnotize yo mind
Mixtape murder No one never heard of ya
Ill put the whole world on my back and carry it
Wrestling with progression got you stressing
All the answers to your questions be in my composition book
Think its a competition till I direct the opposition

Don't worry about me
Don't worry about me
Don't worry about me
Don't worry about me
Don't worry about me



Credits
Writer(s): Jason Rushman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link