bats in the belfry

What the fuck is up, Xav?
Uh

Mez in the tracks like a, dope addict
Shocking when I hear you ain't coming with no static
Fuck a card trick, you disappear and it's no magic
All that talking leave your condition critical, Socratic
I gotta chop shit up like a soul addict
Bats in my belfry, bones in your attic
So zoned out, when I rap, the flow passive
And it's Elm Street shit if they sleep on me, no mattress
Eddy and Double D, we scheme to get dough faster
Most dope insomniac, I'm so ratchet
Supervillaining on the mic, I'm hope sapping
Confidence unshakable, flow on Joe Namath
Name-eth a rapper heinous and cold as ole Xav is
Cuz the wordplay sharpens at points, it's so stabbing
I can't ask for shit, I go snatch it
And I'll die before whatever I feather's below average
Huh, Mez

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn
No way I have to rap after that verse, that's insane

Never fed below average when Xav been in the kitchen
A last minute addition of master lyricism
But don't show no fake love like catfishing on tinder
That's less than a penny worth
Like Batman's best assistant
More gas within these writtens than the Jovian planets
I ain't inept, tune in and I'll show you the damage
You don't understand it
Homie I got the home field advantage
I'm on my home turf
When I wrote verses I soul search
I'm your nightmare, oh your bones hurt?
On a scale of ten to one, I mean one to ten
How much of it's from the pen getting under your skin?
I'm the one that they mention in prophecies
Drop to knees, the god is me
I'm in my prime like the sieve of Eratosthenes
When I rhyme, I'll be killing every goddamn beat
Until the time when the temperature of hell
Will have dropped to freezing
xavflos
That's cold
Sending yo ass home
Yeah



Credits
Writer(s): Xavier Williams
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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