Act I: Intro

I've got a minute to show everybody I'm hittin' the beats like I play the percussion I know it's nothin' you say that you rich then you Show us your cards and we see that you bluffin' I've been at home for a while puffin' J's on the weekend It's indica know what you breathin' Killin' these heathens who think they still rappers I feel like I'm Ye. Can't tell me nothin' I roll through the woods with a backpack, my dog Then she back tracks on me then starts pulling the leash Change my direction real quick try to catch up I yell out to her and say "Rosie you beast" Keep running tracks you can't catch up to me So, it must be the mustard. I'm planting the seeds Got no seeds in my green though. That's a relief I don't want beef. I just want cheese I just want money to buy everything I roll up to the dealership said "f*ck a lease" At least I got G's in the bank. I just seasoned the steak With some salt 'n some pepper. I think that I'm raising the steaks To a milli. I'm making it rain everyday, I don't care 'bout the weather Say that you good but I just do it better Flow hella smooth. Can't believe it's not butter You probably shutter at thoughts of my new release Fear of becoming irrelevant eminent Landshark the best as a survey now, who agrees Hearing the chatter; I'm liking the sentiment See someone out I that used to know. Ask how I'm doin' now Brodie you won't hear the end of it Let's put a pin in it. Record keep spinnin' It's skipping a bit, but I'm loving it anyways I've got a minute to show everybody I'm hittin' the beats like I play the percussion I know it's nothin' you say that you rich then you Show us your cards and we see that you bluffin' I've been at home for a while puffin' J's on the weekend It's indica know what you breathin' Killin' these heathens who think they still rappers I feel like I'm Ye. Can't tell me nothin' Cop me a bottle at Ryan's Some whiskey and wine A few drinks I feel like I'm flyin' I make it look effortless know that I'm tryin' I work every day on the rhymes All of the time I'm writing I sharpen my mind F*ck you if you disrespecting the shine Nearing perfection, perfecting the climb Visions of me on a beach with a drink with a lime Feet up and seat back I let it recline You still want features I'll never oblige Maybe for Mary J Blige Give me that soul give me that high Tell myself that I'll be fine but I am high Buying my groceries I walk through store Everyone seems to be looking at me I can't look in their eyes Got me some chicken that's fried, rice from Dubai Little orange looking things called clementines Got me some bread I've been cravin' the rye Move to the front of the store just to check out the lines Scanning the carts count the items inside Pick one that seems to be movin' I'm losing my patience each second I wait Cause the buzz wearing off and I think I might die I've got a minute to show everybody I'm hittin' the beats like I play the percussion I know it's nothin' you say that you rich then you Show us your cards and we see that you bluffin' I've been at home for a while puffin' J's on the weekend It's indica know what you breathin' Killin' these heathens who think they still rappers I feel like I'm Ye. Can't tell me nothin'