Cats & Dogs
Knock knock, nigga, "Who's there"
The motive too clear, and niggas with my attitude rare
I walk around like I was Ric flair in the attitude era
And I got no opps because they too scared
I got bravado that could lead a mob through a fog completely blind
And lead 'em back because I need a log
I'm a machine that never need a cog
All I got is pressure, I apply everywhere, it's like I need a job
I know you see the squad, comparisons would label me a fraud
Niggas see a toss-up, I just see a lob
And after me they atrophy, what a catastrophe
Cuz when I smack a beat, bro every lyric a decree of God
I scar producers mentally and disrespectfully
But I want shit that's meant for me, the cash especially
When I'm on instrumentals can't nobody step to me
Between me and these rappers it's a pretty big discrepancy
It's no comparing me unless it's done respectfully
Cuz when it comes to skill, there really ain't no equity
I got the recipe that niggas fuck with heavily
So if you step to me then your livelihood is in jeopardy, yo
The game swollen, the fame stolen, the name golden
The play chosen, the main modus is plain slogans
From Angola to Great Ocean I'll make motion
I'm plain spoken you stay open to quaint notions
The J' potent, I make dope and I break quota
I stay cogent with great moments so take notice
My brain focused these lame jokers is plain oafish
You crave tokens, I'm Beethoven with great flowing
I'm looking through the graphs
Tryna stack so much I need a newer graph
Need four years of college just to do the math
You ride a proven path, all my shit is new to cats
In your wildest dreams you couldn't doodle that, I'm too relaxed
I move immune to traps, I stay the coolest cat
Moving maps with words outta my buccal fat, now google that
They heard my shit and said "the truth is back," treat the game like noodle packs
Catch me in the booth committing brutal acts
You cap rap, I snap raps like it's my last raps
The bag fat, I laugh at these niggas' claptrap
It's trash rap, I'm half mad I listened back jack
I'm mad Max on rap tracks my shit attacks wax
My backpack is flashbacks to nasty Nas raps
I lack slack, my cash act like it's the nasdaq
I clap back and blast cats like I was Jack-Jack
Fuck brass plaques it's cash stacks my shit is past that
The motive too clear, and niggas with my attitude rare
I walk around like I was Ric flair in the attitude era
And I got no opps because they too scared
I got bravado that could lead a mob through a fog completely blind
And lead 'em back because I need a log
I'm a machine that never need a cog
All I got is pressure, I apply everywhere, it's like I need a job
I know you see the squad, comparisons would label me a fraud
Niggas see a toss-up, I just see a lob
And after me they atrophy, what a catastrophe
Cuz when I smack a beat, bro every lyric a decree of God
I scar producers mentally and disrespectfully
But I want shit that's meant for me, the cash especially
When I'm on instrumentals can't nobody step to me
Between me and these rappers it's a pretty big discrepancy
It's no comparing me unless it's done respectfully
Cuz when it comes to skill, there really ain't no equity
I got the recipe that niggas fuck with heavily
So if you step to me then your livelihood is in jeopardy, yo
The game swollen, the fame stolen, the name golden
The play chosen, the main modus is plain slogans
From Angola to Great Ocean I'll make motion
I'm plain spoken you stay open to quaint notions
The J' potent, I make dope and I break quota
I stay cogent with great moments so take notice
My brain focused these lame jokers is plain oafish
You crave tokens, I'm Beethoven with great flowing
I'm looking through the graphs
Tryna stack so much I need a newer graph
Need four years of college just to do the math
You ride a proven path, all my shit is new to cats
In your wildest dreams you couldn't doodle that, I'm too relaxed
I move immune to traps, I stay the coolest cat
Moving maps with words outta my buccal fat, now google that
They heard my shit and said "the truth is back," treat the game like noodle packs
Catch me in the booth committing brutal acts
You cap rap, I snap raps like it's my last raps
The bag fat, I laugh at these niggas' claptrap
It's trash rap, I'm half mad I listened back jack
I'm mad Max on rap tracks my shit attacks wax
My backpack is flashbacks to nasty Nas raps
I lack slack, my cash act like it's the nasdaq
I clap back and blast cats like I was Jack-Jack
Fuck brass plaques it's cash stacks my shit is past that
Credits
Writer(s): Ifechukwu Agbasi
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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