5 fingers of death freestyle
Hey look, Cole talk that college talk
Wayne talk gangs
Jay be talking money man and Ye' talk fame
And people say I talk about the same ole thang
The reason why I sound the same is cause the truth don't change
Look, people get it twisted like a lemon in a spirit
If I ain't talking killing I must be talking bout healing
Nah, I ain't talking 'bout how Jesus gonna make me a million
With my hands to the ceiling I got that spiritual feeling
My head bowed down, my knees to the floor
Oh you a Christian and you rap
That must be the way you flow, no
I talk reality like mama on her death bed
The birth of a child, a soldier losing his left leg
Who gon' write songs to give him hope in they chair
Addicted to pain killers, wife left last year
Your favorite rapper was probably tryin' to make his next hit
Talking look at what I did, who I shot and who I tipped
Couldn't be more common if them boys made sense
Couldn't be more common if Serena was they chick
Ay, that's not a diss that's how reality sound
Let it off my mind, this how my mentality sound
We going, down south it sound like New Orleans
But this is kind of Floridian so let me get the scene
Uh, let me spit it
Hold on, that's off the dome
Get the microphone, yea you know it's on
I never fit in, I been a outcast
In grade school I was blasting my Outkast
And I'll pass on running to catch a route pass
Gimme a pen and a pad and I'm tryna outlast
All of my idols
American and the foreigners
Before I heard all of these boring bars
Money, money, money, sex, drugs and the foreigners
The coroners all these talkin' 'bout the coroners
All this killin' but where the bodies at?
Aye, all this money where the Bugattis at?
You dig a lil' deeper
You gon' see another insecure man sittin' in a two seater
The same little boy that used to get beat up
With plenty pains in his past you could bring up
But listen I ain't tyna string up
I'm freestylin' off the dome you know I had to get up
Y'all get to steppin' I get to startin'
You dream of being a king but you watchin' the wrong Martin bruh man
This ain't the fifth floor, it's the penthouse
So get it together or just get out
I know you rarely get out of the basement
This dark full of hatred your heart harder than pavement
But I came for something amazing
It's that grace that I lay in and I stay in
Uh, I gotta little mo' though
I got a little more flow though
Hold on let me get it together
Yea, oh the beat 'bout to change up
Yo, waiting for some good news
Funny, cause I already got the greatest
Can't nobody say they made us
The aim was not to be famous
Don't pay us no nevermind if we don't let the money change us
This what God told me
'Crae don't switch the style up
If they hate then let 'em hate
That's how they did my child, ooh kill 'em!
My team watchin' I'm runnin' the ball go get 'em
You silly you pleading that silly cars, you silly
You really should pay attention
You missing the mission
You too caught up in these titles and if I'm rapping religion
I'm just rapping my gift
I give to you if you want it
Aye, I ain't see you at my concert, guess you ain't on it
Guess you missing the moment, missing the point
Let me chill out
Y'all understand the words that are comin' out my midouth?
Cause ever since I been out, these people told me get out
You backwoods Holy Ghost hollering faith mental
You Holy Ghost right-wing judgmental, you get out
Huh, it's funny cause everyone 'gon be sent out, huh
But I ain't even tripping on the judge man
It's Sway in the Morning man and I ain't finna budge man