Lyrics: Mike Checka
Music: Mike Checka
Arranger: Mike Checka
I done, did it all for hip hop
Reclining while I Sip scotch
Didn’t mean to hit rock
Bottom from the tip top
Glaring down my Swiss watch
Flowing by no glitch stop
Cross me I’m gon hit opps
Sloppy does a slick job
Slimy asian, fish sauce
Diet like I’ m Rick Ross
Combing down with flip flops
White sand beaches, thick fog
Puffin tees don’t hit rock
Ayo ayo,
I’m new on the scene, but a few in the arena can spew as shrewdly as me
In-dis-pu-ta-bi-ly, I refuse to believe, some lines that you spitting like I do with the apparition
In my rear view vision, full of bad decisions,
Am I biting again, apologies if I bite off more than I chew,
I try to eschew, but the wits are not as astute as I viewed
Objects in the mirror, appear closer than they are
Catch you in arrears, might just bust out the A-card
freeze without fear, make you crack like a clay dart
Flow you out the rear, like I do with a stray fart,
What I make is straight art, just like Black ops era Treyarch,
it was 2010 back in grade 4, gin with the gin-ger ales, chasing the paper trails, scratching the fingernails,
filling the bucket and pails, screaming keep it real, that was doomed to fail
we might’ve raised the prices but we built the rails,
I said
we might’ve raised the prices but we built the rails,
opps won’t put these crazy crutches in fail,
Spitting is the mission, text full of the mission, is it fact or fiction, I can’t tell the difference
I done, did it all for hip hop
Reclining while I Sip scotch
Didn’t mean to hit rock
Bottom from the tip top
Glaring down my Swiss watch
Flowing by no glitch stop
Cross me I’m gon hit opps
Sloppy does a slick job
Slimy asian, fish sauce
Diet like I’m Rick Ross
Combing down with flip flops
White sand beaches, thick fog
Puffin tees don ’t hit rock
My flow and the beat is like tomato and cheese, caprice
Dissect it and analyze it piece by piece
You don’t achieve peace by peaceful means, listen to me you little pees p -lease