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Letra

Thou shalt not fuck with Detroit and me
Never owned a Coogi, Ford truck, or a pair of them gator Mauri's
Please hold your applause for these parables and stories
Give all praise to Allah, to God be the glory
My Papa raised me like I'm a dog with rabies
Playin' "da ha da ha" in the dropped Mercedes
Drivin' with the chopper daily
Pupils dilated like I'm Sada Baby
Nozzle on that gun larger than the one on that Gaga lady
Play with my time like I'm a playful don
My arm comes out the car, my window down like I'm tryna borrow some Grey Poupon
First these bitches hate it, then they love it, then they hate to love it
I'm straight with publishin', I don't care if the radio station's stubborn
You haters busters, I'm David Ruffin
It'll take me nothin' to put your life on a dollar menu right there by the Egg McMuffin
While you boys totin' Glocks, snortin' rocks, and importin' thots
I'm floatin' with forty knots, to the bag like I'm a border cop
Any artist in hip-hop fuck with Nickel stock, sure to drop
Especially if he Russell Wilson, good guy, sorta pop
You sure to die, pallbearers bring flowers, he's mortified
Me and Porter got the same stayin' power that hoarders got
Whoever Superman, I got kryptonite in these hands
But I'd rather soup-a-man, leave you liquefied with these cans
I don't care if you rap niggas is trendin' topic, your shit is garbage
You couldn't make a classic out of that trash if you had Brenda drop it
You at the rental car spot Enterprise while I'm enterprisin'
I don't cop my whips without coppin' rims and a body kit and my tint is darkened
Closest I'ma probably get to window shoppin'

I've been a real nigga since the beginning
I did it without the ridiculous gimmicks or pretentious pretending
I was taught the sky is the limit by the way of Fenkell and Plymouth
But my only limit is sticking my dick in a chick with a blemish
I speak from a frequency that was meant to uplift the antennas
I sing with the intention to riff with The Tenors, my gift is tremendous
I didn't get rich and forget the incentive
I'm never buying into religion or soliciting sinners, my nigga
We attribute the original wave we articulate through bricks of yay
Zipped up on 18-wheelers on interstates
We distribute weight then matriculate into real estate
Then we assimilate, powder dealing they probably still 'a hate
Me and Em came through, did the original Renegade
Gave that shit to Jay, then spit a gem off stage at Dilla-Day
Used to rock the byzantine mix ciroc with a grenadine
Euthanize the blocks with sin intent to intervene
Snitchin' is a sin, as mixing your linen and denim jeans
Growing up, blowing up was a long shot, like drone shots or limousines
In between Greyhound and Jim McLean
Dome shot a cop with a straight round like Slim and Queen
It's bout' time we invest in our mental status
I write rhymes for Anunnaki slave ancestors on emerald tablets
Today we raging on Vegas stages with bass guitars
Yesterday was agents chasing us, aprons and mason jars
Planets align in orbit, my mind absorbs it, the finest orifice
Therefore my soul can glow in divine proportions
You niggas snitchin', you need to stop your beefin'
Cops crooked, wearing swastikas attending Nazi meetings
Liberace Nickel rock gems, Timbs and Huarache sneakers
The 'cain (Cain) made me able (Abel) to drop the deacon and go off the deep end
Y'all so weak, I forgot the weekend
Philosophical syllables seamstress speaking in a biblical Fibonacci sequence
When that bar drop, you feel your life pass you by from your far-side
I got more poppin' bros than DeBarge got
I suppose I compose art like a Bartók, I chart high
Especially now that I'm steppin' outta that economic apartheid
They left us out of the archive
I'm definitely probably a marked guy
My weapon's out and I'm wetting y'all like I'm [weeping/webbing] outta a shark's eye
Stepping out of a hard-tie 7 mile and Oak Park, I
Where several bodies get hog tied and left inside of the chalk lines
Ten toes standing on granite floors and [Mosano] porch
Hoes snort'n' Xanax, Rosanne endorse and go [a Gauguin of sorts]
Culture vultures know I won't stand for shit I can't enforce
Labels know my name ain't on paper or dough I can't endorse
Cordae you know you'll always be my lil' man, of course
Don't let Atlantic destroy your standings, playin' mechanic horse
Pass the torch and walk away a hammer-thrower, my hands of force
Slap Michael Rapaport across the face at the Gansevoort, like.. That's for Meek
I'll drop Lonzo Ball corpse off on Nas porch dawg, that's for the blasphemy
No apathy. Inside the mind of white supremacist with cognitive dissonance most compromised position for blacks to be
They cast stones and sticks at the rap throne a' drip
And the coin flips and, well all you gon' back is a splash from me
I rap ridiculous, craft ubiquitous
I have you niggas swimming with a bass in the fishes is. Ask Vishis
Yeah, I piss off the critics, I'm Master P
The heavy metal was always [trapped in Me] before there was ever a Yela' rapper beef
Throwing choppers at [ run by's]
A load of them outta Hyundais
Loaded shopping in Mumbai
That's my modus-operandi
My portfolio expands
Income from the slick sayings
While the FBI tryin' to give the M1 to the stick-man
Spit them braggin' bars, grab your balls, that's the speech from ma'
They told us money talks, ain't tell us wealth don't speak at all
You a fan of ours, or you not a fan o' art?
I'm a dog baller for Los Angeles broads my cannon embark, jam and spark
And it talk, brrrrrr, skip... brrrrrt, hold up... skip
Man, this bitch sounding like Shannon Sharpe
Don't get your soul thrown to the deacon by way of this weekend's news
For violating a dude like me for publicity and views
Shorty don't get this 40 and this Colt 45 misconstrued
Cos' you new school dudes got Billy Dee confused
I rather watch Floyd May' flash in a Gucci store a day
Than work for an asshole who get mad at me askin' for a raise
Cop a new cotton-picking Aston in grey just for the slaves
You niggas current, Nickel was born and raised to destroy a wave
Rather give these young 'uns directions, 'stead'a ignore their ways
Plant trees so all my advances can enjoy the shade
60-40 ventures while trying to make sixty 40 ways
Paid 40k just for the J's before the Ye's
Glass door attached to a castle, exquisite foyer (for-yay)
Side door trapped through the silver-screen Sidney Poitier
Flash gold on stage stone-face just for The Spades
Paid 50k for the stone flakes that's 40 [yays]
Back when the 1990 West met the shiny vest
I had Tommy S tryin' to sign me next
dry snitching y'all probably find him wet
Tell your A&amp;R, NPR that y'all ain't shit without your tiny desk

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