Wandered away on my own/now I'm contemplating a play for the throne/ it's on, I'm in the zone//Oughta be broke, but I got a lottery ticket on loan from the frogs hotboxin' Gilbert Godfrey's throat////(All they wanted was kisses from like a roster of bitches to turn em' all into princes from like, a baller's perspective)// I'm like, "a'ight, step back, I've a knack for magicianry; Got frogs? Hand me my hat, what happens next will be 'Ribbetting!'"

I'll be okay

I guess we got it, don't everybody offer to help at once

I'll be no slave

(Chain me to debt? No fuckin' way, my main concern is are there Jeeters and blunts?)

I'll be mo' brave

I guess I gotta/ Don't nobody duck or dodge Father Time

Might misbehave

Mayhem and Chaos are the papers and clay blocks aligned

Dope: the death party/ Is scope the next Bacardi?/It's sober sex in the barrio/Oversexed, under-Mario'ed// Joke: the "meth problem"/ this fentanyl, THAT'S a problem/ Drug carts the drug dogs under dogged economically//// Often in the drug markets/ Pop-ups (call em' 'plug marts')/ coffins of Prada/ Cartier commas, I got em// Arm the Armani armada/ Am I part carny? I gotsta be/ I'm a cow-catcher (stop the beef)/ I'm part Carnegie constantly////

feel my heartbeat

Star the breathin'

Still my thoughts be

In the evenin'

Ill my art be

Still my scene is

Ill-mind artistes

Stop and see them (X2)

Seems to me/ wasn't it just 20-Steven-teen, smokin' pot by the pool/ pops didn't even think it was me/ and the Oscar goes to/ Who do you think? Who'd you believe is this pot-drinkin', brandy-smokin' shootin' up weed//// Doctor of coppin' to nada?/ Cuz when cops talk to me (nuh-uh)/ I'm sorry officer/ you must be jokin'/ take me to the hokey, honest//I'm not about to go out and throw it away/ over some late-business as state witness/ go tell the D.A. that

I'm not the streets

I wanna thank the sicarios, dark guardians spared me

I lost some sleep

Three damn degrees of separation from El Chapo to Bear Creek