Calls For a Celebration

Ka-Flame Speaks

How to be a arsonist?, something I didn't mean to learn
Setting fire to everything, your whole team can burn
Took a year off, they've been waiting on the King's return
Screaming fuck the world now, trying to make her drink my sperm
Let's get one thing confirmed, since you seem concerned
I'm after cash, want it fast, hit the scene and earn
Every dollar, I desire, make a fire pit
Flocaine selling, let me tell ya, what my buyers get
Something real, they can feel, the dopest hits
Asking how I know this shit, cause I wrote this shit
Lyrics so fire, you can roll them up, and smoke the shit
Making hits, all it's missing, is a vocalist
They saying that ignorance is bliss, you never noticed it
I'm hot, still I'm cold as shit, forgot, that my flow is sick
You not, bout to blow this shit, they plot, I have loaded this
Glock on my waist, beat the case, because I'm so legit

Cooking up this real music, damn near done broke my wrist
Hold ya glasses up high, gone and toast to this
If they hating, then they know, just what them folks can kiss
Never thought I'd go through this, the hopelessness
Back up on my grind, and I'm focused bitch
Yea I'm focused bitch
The hopelessness, never thought I'd go through this
If they're still hating, then you know, just what them folks can kiss
Hold ya glasses up high, gone and toast to this, I'm back

Real talk, crank it up, then I peel off
Bitches acting like they're tough, but they real soft
Had to stack my paper up, like a real boss
While you fronting, out here flexing, trying to still floss
Say that time is money, funny, how it still cost
Quick to say, that they're the truth, but that feel false
Every track that they produce, it be so trash
Need to break ya mic, and rip apart ya note pad
They complain, wanna be the Flame, so bad
That's how you lame nigga's end up, with ya toe tagged
Throat slashed, shouldn't even talk, with yo broke ass
Kill ya squad, that depend, how long the smoke last
In ya yard, like you ordered, something from door dash
Swear to God, you don't want the 4'4 to blast
Where I'm from, you can fall, due to hesitation
Back up in the studio, this calls for a celebration

Cooking up this real music, damn near done broke my wrist
Hold ya glasses up high, gone and toast to this
If they hating, then they know, just what them folks can kiss
Never thought I'd go through this, the hopelessness
Back up on my grind, and I'm focused bitch
Yea I'm focused bitch
The hopelessness, never thought I'd go through this
If they're still hating, then you know, just what them folks can kiss
Hold ya glasses up high, gone and toast to this, I'm back