Can It Be? (feat. Gecko)

Look It can't be cuz I put in the work and the time and the effort to make sure I do it It can't be cuz I'm writing so much that I rhyme when I'm talking to you I'm so fluent It can't be when I'm taking control of the kicks and I hit it so much I abuse it It can't be I don't have any choice when it come to my options I don't even think about losing (Uh Uh Uh) Nothing is funny the f*ck are you laughing My girl is so pretty that she could win pageants And half of these rappers don't even have talent Losing my footing and keeping my balance I'm breaking the cycle and breaking my habits I'm chasing perfection don't care about status They told me to quit and they thinking they had us Uh Got a plaque for it And a hunnid I keep on the dashboard No other option I gotta go get it but if I don't work than it's back to the draft board This shit is nasty, feel like I'm Rico Metal Gear Solid I'm playing with cheat codes Think she all that but this bitch ain't an idol she feeling like Doja but sing out of key though Back on the road In the back of the rolls Think of doing a show and then keeping composed Holding my own When I'm hitting the flow And then all my opponents are barely opposed 5% tint when I'm driving the whip I don't know if you noticed no point if I look at em I see 'em reading my verses and dodging the punches but if he not careful I'm throwing at hook at em It can't be cuz I put in the work and the time and the effort to make sure I do it It can't be cuz I'm writing so much that I rhyme when I'm talking to you I'm so fluent It can't be when I'm taking control of the kicks and I hit it so much I abuse it It can't be I don't have any choice when it come to my options I don't even think about losing Can it be? The gecko? Yes it can Said a motherfucker got a plan, like the Super Bowl how I'm filling the stands Like I'm on my game 6, know the flame lit, with the ball in the palm of my hand Honored to stand, in front of my momma, and show her the commas and numbers I ran Look at my commas and digits, I'm flaunting my business, I'm posting the shit to the web I got the people caught in it, All of the spindles, they shoot from my wrist, where I bled And every syllable spoken, the words that I wrote, I do it with class and respect I treat the pen with the care and attention, like it was my baby, but dad went and left Felt I neglected my prodigy, I took my awhile but, I started writing again Look at me spitting the wittiest shit Fill up a page with the mess in my head Look at the scribbles, like baby utensil, decided to draw me a pic, and I said That me and you on mo'fuckin pedestal? Shit, atta boy, now let's rip it to shreds We gotta do is apply some more pressure And then maybe ink will go straight through the paper If we press hard enough, shit, like regardless of ballpoint or gel, we gon' draw on them tables I'm writing scriptures and scrolls with a feather and drawing on walls of the studio Labels and artists ain't ever gon sign me, I act like a child, I write in Crayola The fables That I been hearing, I swear that they fake A hare and a tortoise? A Gecko gon' win in that race Catch you off guard when I say That through the speakers, I see the look on your face You scared of my spit like it's acid in tears I'm caring for pencils, erasing the fear Went from deadbeat to father of the year Now I can't dead the beat, and I polish my ear It can't be cuz I put in the work and the time and the effort to make sure I do it It can't be cuz I'm writing so much that I rhyme when I'm talking to you I'm so fluent It can't be when I'm taking control of the kicks and I hit it so much I abuse it It can't be I don't have any choice when it come to my options I don't even think about losing