Unpredictable lyricsI'm so sick with this microphone I feel ill
Like I got 30 different people wanting shit like I was retail
I'm done giving favors give back the pad and pencils
Perform accapella getting no more instrumentals
Fuck potential son
Cause you ain't got the heart or drive
You can talk what you want I'll emerge with a darker side
My marker glides covers wide spread
Plus reflect life on paper, the verbal vibrator
Bringing pleasure to these ears of these hip hop heads
Now fuck it Class bring it to everyone who is not dead
Shit you killing me, now forget the credibility
Let's compare stability, and willingly, lyrical ability
Production wise, I can't be touched (I can't be touched)
And on the microphone I ain't the dopest, but still dope as fuck
Conceited, and cocky, I call this confidence
Innerself compliments with no equivalents, Now
Chorus (2 times)
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