Flavors

Look
These haters gon' swerve in yo' lane
But it's part of the game proceed with caution (skrt, skrt)
It's me with the greats: Jordan, Jackson, Tyson or Muhammad (I'ma GOAT)
Bad lil classic with a lil racthet, gotta body from the tropics (ou she bad)
And I got flavors: Runtz, Gelato, Biscotti it's exotic (it's some gas)
These haters gon' swerve in yo' lane
But it's part of the game proceed with caution (skrt, skrt)
It's me with the greats: Jordan, Jackson, Tyson or Muhammad (I'ma GOAT)
Bad lil classic with a lil racthet, gotta body from the tropics (ou she bad)
And I got flavors: Runtz, Gelato, Biscotti it's exotic (gas)

Fuck the promise you told to me
Only believe in shit that you show to me
I let you do what you wanna do, see what you rather do
And act accordingly
Always keep it a stack, ain't no folding me
I'm AI, you Jordan, ain't no holding me
When I'm up we won't doin' no meet and greets
When I was down by myself, they ain't notice me
And I'ma keep grinding 'til I reach the top
Til I sign Ke Montana on the dotted
Take every beat like a boxer
I ain't a rapper, I'm more like an artist
Cause the flow too melodic
Must be out yo' rabbit ass, bugs bunny ass mind
If you think I ain't got it, know that I got it
I'm on the path to peace, I'm up
All you gotta do is show up
Flow too hot, just zip my coat up
Yeah I'm flashy, okay, so what
Different persona when I put that shit on
I'm a sprite when it's shook and the lid on (pressure)
Ki' too real so he be the villian
But Ke Montana the hero

These haters gon' swerve in yo' lane
But it's part of the game proceed with caution (skrt, skrt)
It's me with the greats: Jordan, Jackson, Tyson or Muhammad (I'ma GOAT)
Bad lil classic with a lil racthet, gotta body from the tropics (ou she bad)
And I got flavors: Runtz, Gelato, Biscotti it's exotic (it's some gas)
These haters gon' swerve in yo' lane
But it's part of the game proceed with caution (skrt, skrt)
It's me with the greats: Jordan, Jackson, Tyson or Muhammad (I'ma GOAT)
Bad lil classic with a lil racthet, gotta body from the tropics (ou she bad)
And I got flavors: Runtz, Gelato, Biscotti it's exotic (gas)

My dad was the dealer, his brother a killer
My brother the muscle, my mama a hustler
My sister a genius, we all fightin' demons
I'm praying to God cause we need 'im
While the fans steady fiendin', just keep on believin'
That I'll be the leader
Do this for a reason, do this for a purpose



Credits
Writer(s): Ki'yahn Leach
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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