Hive

Promise Heron I'll put my fist up after I get my dick sucked

Quick buck maybe a gold chain

With that f**king flow that s-s-so belittles men

They tentatively tend to turn and go when I am finished

Stone cold hardly f**king with these *s ni**a listen

The description doesn't fit if not a synonym of menace then forget it

In turn these critics and interns

Admitting the sh*t spitted just burn like six furnaces

Writ it affixed learning them digits and simultaneously

Dispelling one-trick-pony myths isn't he

One adolescent f**king six-ni**a energy

And crawling down 'Fax like a rich ni**a centipede

Crack ceramic and slap a hand out of cash account

Stamp and shouting thrashing these *s done let the Kraken out

Crack-a-lackin' like snap crackle poppin' your ammo off

Hide your face and throw your flannels off Sweatshirt ni**a

'87 roof top Bronson

Whipping hoopties tryna boost raw chronic

(Brutus in that booth double scoop hot vomit up)

(Sub rocking thud knocking *s teeth loose)

Bruh I don't f**k with no cop

(Rolling with that flow swamp)

Catch me over stove top

(Rapping to that coke rock)

(Passionless in old Jive clothing

With them doors wide open)

(Dim the floor lights focused)

Like it's nothing cause it's nothing b**ch

From a city that's recession-hit

With stress *s could flex metal with peddle to rake pennies in

Desolate testaments trying to stay Jekyll-ish

But most *s Hyde and Brenda just stay pregnant

Breaking news: death's less important when the Lakers lose

It's lead in that baby food heads try to make it through

Fish-netted legs for them eyes that she cater to

Ride dirty as the f**king sky that you praying to

So here I sit eye in the pyramid

God spit it like it's truth serum in that beer and then

Disappear again reappear bearded

On top of a lear steering it into the kids' ear again

Provider of the backdrop music

For the crack rock user and the mascot Earl

Rawer than the skinned knee cap on the blacktop

Salivary glands lighter fluid for the matchbox

Striking wait wait who the f**k you badder than

Boy oh boy I'm bad as burnt pollo off the grill and sh*t

Spitter of the Little Nick nimble rickrolling

B**ch *s pick litter piff-blower plus I pillage sh*t

Quit with all that tough talk bruh we know you *s ain't about sh*t

Come around we gun 'em down bodies piled Auschwitz

Bulletproof outfits weapons concealed

I'm ready to kill so test it all my weapons is real

Selling thizz couldn't tell him what the recipe is

Got 'em wishing that they never gave these weapons to kids cheers

Send chills up spines of fat b**ches after

Shows throwing out sandwiches *s get it how they

Live and I live for money other words I'm getting money

Little boy told me when it’s time to ride they’ll send up for me

Ain't nobody scaring me *s ain't prepared for heat

Tools hit like pool sticks the way I cue sh*t