LYRICAL (off the grid)
Got this beast unleashing
Now I'm feasting don't do minimal
Got these dreams I'm scheming
I'm not dreaming I stay lyrical
Go smoke trees no treason
What's the reason? I ain't criminal
Add those up what's L plus C, that's LC
Hashtag SG, lyrical criminal
Fuck up the beat and I left it critical
Fuck on your b and I left her critical
If I was him I'd be miserable
And I ain't missing it
They're just milking it
I got some people I ain't rly clicking with
So then I leave they can't handle the businesses
Now that im visioning
There are some differences
I'm working vigorous
I'm feeling villainous
Vigilance, diligence
Simple as syntheses
I get the light in my head
Then I write that line
Take a pic that's a photo synthesis
Start from the bottom I'm building a pyramid
Start from the bottom then look
When I just started the people were hating
Now i'm growing they all started changing
Changing the framing, pictures painted
I'm painting movers with raging
Obsessed goals that I keep playing
Playing the game until they know I'm making
The best album and it'll have my name in
I don't give a fuck if man don't rate me
On a bad day, I make
On a good day, I make
I got a baby thats wanting a baby
I told her
Baby I ain't having a baby
Why is she thinking of having a baby
Who would've thought I'd shell this beat
I'll share your b,say what? I'm a lyrical criminal
Never the minimal moving subliminal
Murder the - I left it critical
If I'm typing my type in a ting
Then that ting just types me back it's typical
Doing this shit from a kid
Now I'm here with all my bros we look at the pinnacle
We shoot for the stars and aim for the moon
Take cash from banks like santan
Don't scam that bank withdraw that cash
Fucked up words shits just like hangman
Crossed one off after I tapped that
Tic tac toe if you don't get the mad rap
Mad about bars when I get charged up
Man's plugged in I don't do rap cap
Bill up a back strap open the back pack
Shit there's three grams packed
That's hat trick
So in the back pack
There is a bagged pack
They ain't gang gang they ain't match fit
Matching the challenge
I mastered the rapping
Now it's all real, done with the capping
And if this rap game was a sport
Then I'd be winning the fucking matches
All out attacking the beat I be spazzing
Doing this shit, still on the trip
Stacking the paper telling them eight joints
Then EJ is on the spliff
Take big hits then man is coughing sick
And take me in, I'm off the grid
Now I'm feasting don't do minimal
Got these dreams I'm scheming
I'm not dreaming I stay lyrical
Go smoke trees no treason
What's the reason? I ain't criminal
Add those up what's L plus C, that's LC
Hashtag SG, lyrical criminal
Fuck up the beat and I left it critical
Fuck on your b and I left her critical
If I was him I'd be miserable
And I ain't missing it
They're just milking it
I got some people I ain't rly clicking with
So then I leave they can't handle the businesses
Now that im visioning
There are some differences
I'm working vigorous
I'm feeling villainous
Vigilance, diligence
Simple as syntheses
I get the light in my head
Then I write that line
Take a pic that's a photo synthesis
Start from the bottom I'm building a pyramid
Start from the bottom then look
When I just started the people were hating
Now i'm growing they all started changing
Changing the framing, pictures painted
I'm painting movers with raging
Obsessed goals that I keep playing
Playing the game until they know I'm making
The best album and it'll have my name in
I don't give a fuck if man don't rate me
On a bad day, I make
On a good day, I make
I got a baby thats wanting a baby
I told her
Baby I ain't having a baby
Why is she thinking of having a baby
Who would've thought I'd shell this beat
I'll share your b,say what? I'm a lyrical criminal
Never the minimal moving subliminal
Murder the - I left it critical
If I'm typing my type in a ting
Then that ting just types me back it's typical
Doing this shit from a kid
Now I'm here with all my bros we look at the pinnacle
We shoot for the stars and aim for the moon
Take cash from banks like santan
Don't scam that bank withdraw that cash
Fucked up words shits just like hangman
Crossed one off after I tapped that
Tic tac toe if you don't get the mad rap
Mad about bars when I get charged up
Man's plugged in I don't do rap cap
Bill up a back strap open the back pack
Shit there's three grams packed
That's hat trick
So in the back pack
There is a bagged pack
They ain't gang gang they ain't match fit
Matching the challenge
I mastered the rapping
Now it's all real, done with the capping
And if this rap game was a sport
Then I'd be winning the fucking matches
All out attacking the beat I be spazzing
Doing this shit, still on the trip
Stacking the paper telling them eight joints
Then EJ is on the spliff
Take big hits then man is coughing sick
And take me in, I'm off the grid
Credits
Writer(s): Ollie Linden
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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