Correction Lyrics Tim Westwood Freestyle by Cordae

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Lyrics

Aight, are we live for real, Tim?
Aight, London sh*t, history sh*t
Ya heard that?

Uh, whatever happened to quality music?
The body of students
Either high off molly or stupid
You n***as whack as hell
And not doing my numbers as far as math can tell
So blind please pa** the braille
Know who really got your back, someone to stab you in it
Always tell 'em I'm the greatest, let me brag a minute
Make a couple platinum hooks with a jab incentive
Damn, this young n***a mad inventive
And now you other n***as lame as f**k, can't hang with us, not insane enough
I'm dangerous like a school shooter off of Angel Dust
Stop it, all your silly rhymes microscopic
I'm hotter than a Travis Scott concert moshpit
I dare you come after me, it'll be a catastrophe
Drop my first album, watch that sh*t be a masterpiece
All my own masters B, that's word to Master P
Flow like Uzi, punchlines on Ca**idy
Gotta get it, no problem with it, a lotta digits
It's what I'm chasin' so I'm upgradin' my momma's kitchen
Designer linen and finer living is my intention
Don't try to stop me, I'll have you rotting inside a prison
Got bars like a jail cell, they're givin' 'em time
Other rappers wanna snake me 'cause my venomous rhymes
Asked you to sell your soul and you didn't decline
Godlike flow, my n***a, damn, that sh*t is divine
These n***as is swine
The sickest of rhymes, that you can feel
In yo’ liver and spine
And I’m still in my prime
Matter fact, I’m in the very beginning
All my homies I grew up with either buried or prison
Still carry the vision
N***as don’t want beef vegetarian livin
Try to keep it underground because Harriet did it
Lifestyle f**kin’ very exquisite
Motel 6, now we in a Marriot b*t*hes

I love it
My flow is so cold, I love it
(Yeah)
I can’t take no hoe, In public
Yeah that, yeah that
Did I do okay Tim?
That wasn’t like, too terrible right?
Ohh, yeah I thought so man

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