Pass That (feat. Hanzo The Phantom)

Uh Look Nowadays they don't give a f*ck about the product Grabbin any muhfucka to go and finesse the phonics Get it straight, get the papes dawg its all about the dollars To this day still slaves to the fucking founding fathers Ain't it obvious? Coming from the ones profiling us The journey from the bottom up The only way to level up My brother said its Vert Season That just gave me reason To wreck any muhfucka that grabs the mic and starts breathing Cause we know they ain't ready They just glorify confetti So this Latino bringing Heat like I'm '05 Eddie Up in a slow riding Chevy Dawg if I had a low low I'd pack it out with bitches, hit the switches like I'm Ali G Hit the scene belly full of beans Roll the finest green, got a thing for the finer shit so keep ya swisher sticks Yadadamean Feel the sting from the Killah Be Illest out the 3 O Third F*ck what they heard huh Yeah Look This that Raikage liger bomb Double lariat Couldn't parry it, carry it, Ferry it, whip vicious just Like a chariot The underground movement like Harriet Toss me a dub, I got you on the knowledge kick Vocabulary so deep, you just reached tip This the iceberg finna sink a ship Every sentence is a legitimate experience For your to experiment I just happen to be ill widdit Space cadet still defyin physics They talkin numbers I be sleepin Next bitches who just gave me digits Dont fret baby I gotcha message I wouldn't stress it, Ima be a type legend I'm first or second, and damn sure not second Registered pens, Because ink become a lethal weapon Fire passion, this track like Mel Gibson got his ass beat I'm Wally West at a Track meet My diet is beats, and bitch I treat it like an athlete I've got a Tact Nuke and I'm camping Cause I pwn noobs at rapping Tell them hoe niggas @ me Filet these shrimps no Scampi Nigga Ooh shit I'ma be real with you Be This some of that pack.. See I was on a trip with Lucy when I thought I found the Ki On why hella things in life always seem to come in 3's From this iris, to these verses to these fuckin grams of weed In these leaves always searching for another lucky seed Just to feed it this game every time I fucking breathe Son, say less. Who's living to die without a paycheck? Not I, catch the red eye flight in cold fronts Killer Bee with no eight tails son, who want what? Soul Searchin My purpose Scrapin the surface, Expensive and worth it These verses sweet you can hear these hoes in cursive, It's so submersive Perfecting my role as a word smith Confrontin my inner demons, And punk these niggas like lil bitches I lace the track like threading stitches goin the distance like extra inches It's Surgical break my concentration for a smidgen And the results could be catastrophic by definition become a hurdle It's an art form like all 4 ninja turtles I'm Master Splinter tho