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Red：
This son been rising, since the sun been rising
Devising since continents been dividing
I'm sorry I rattle the house all day, I'm just trying to get clout
Some battle for fame, I'm just trying to get out
Trying to get loud out PA's to shout bouts to a crowd a million faced
Right after I do the dishes
Gonna write master pieces that'll knock you out your britches
Na na, na na, na na
They talking blah blah
I'm writing raw raw
Say ta ta, I'm gonna do it, I'm getting to it
LEM:
Bugging till I split momma,
I'm 'a rhymer till 500 magatamas
I ain't even got keys to Honda!
Naw, naw, identify him squandering entendres
Aboriginal till the days of digital, his grip'll cripple these simple syllables
What's a fool to Fujiyama?
Mad bomber, catch karma clad in rad in armor
Hydrostat grab 'em
Talkin naginata
Abdominal trauma when I spit these scripts,
Chomp at the bit with it,
Fidget and fiddle for the first punch,
Lunch
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'Yet another stage, which we now call stage REM, which resembles stage one. Resembles stage one, except there's no Alpha activity in the EEG, okay? There's signs of profound muscle relaxation bordering on uh- bordering on paralysis.
Sometimes people will fall right into stage REM'
Red:
If it wasn't for my pops, I wouldn't be selling these rocks
Cotton blend socks, hobbit feet, gotta eat
Spinning theta rhythms, go to sleep
Pay for bars, I ain't no beta or zeta star
Note the gravity
Inside vibes coincide to a tribe of rap cats,
In a snap, scribe boom bap tracks for these trichromats
Upright two leggeds,
Who said it? The more you consume the more you're fed
Wow like shaolin monks listening to P. Funk
Or actually finding the kid who bootlegged your shit
Pegging it like light bright
I write while they lie next to night-light
Always keep my tongue on me in a knife fight
Knock out ya lights like Mike Tys with these punch lines
Captain when its crunch time
(Seriously? Did you just say that?)
(Sorry)
Na na na…
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