The Undercard

Sixth floor walk-up work off the gut
Two steps at a time
Apartment E9
What up? What up?

They're cooking dinner
Garlic onion ginger
Duck in the back room
Settle up

The new shit wild, got me ready to bust a nut
Pardon
Eat like I'm starving small talk the clock ticks
I gotta split gotta gig, nah, it's nothing big
Don't get up
See myself out

Breath in the doubt
Sip fear from chalice
Pushed a Ton with no Malice
Turned the corner like Kennedy in Dallas
Emptied out Phomh Penh
Sat alone in the palace
Illiterate, so they put his name in ballads

Words spinning in my head
S unraveling into threads
But that re-up stay stuck to the glass
Like a big neon sign
Screaming: "Take the cash!" (Take the cash)
Hit the venue nondescript
They don't know the half

Pounds all around
When I get to the back
Stage
Pacing
Animal in a cage
Somewhere between: "Let me at 'em
And let's get this over with"

Declined the spliff
They took is as a diss, like I waved away picks
But never one to bite my tongue
Professor Griff

Put my bag by the steps
Hit the stage and crushed the place, like, "That's it"
And never once did I take an eye off my shit
House of Game
B-Legit
Fixed rate mortgage
Three percent



Credits
Writer(s): James Simon, F Porter
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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