Room Recordings #1: Response.

I know how you feel I'm stuck in the freeway This a solid white so please stay in ya lane I take beef over bread just like a cheesteak More sticks are being passed than county relays I pull more strings than you in more ways then two So don't be confused I'm only enthused We get compared but I can tell apart I put my heart in the art You half way on like white bitch cardigans So please criticize when you touch the charts I'll ask your audience when you touch their hearts I express mine through prolific thoughts They asking who's the best I pause once and cough And you looking for advice like damn who should I call Yeah maybe Sandro Nah you ruined that chance Looking for a guiding hand I'm a one man band I got Rhythm in my blood that comes from a foreign land I got 500 Pradas you'll never see through my lens And a father stretches his arms but I don't lend a hand I'm really the son of Sam Doing everything that you can't And that just goes to show That you really just a hoe And I'm the motherfucking man bitch gone