Ritual
It's not a performance, it's a ritual
(It's a ritual)
When I rhyme, it's like the city is mines
Play who? No label ain't give me a dime
Came through like if you grateful
This how you really should shine
Flooded Jesus in that grey coupe
At the grittiest times
They know me, since '96
Wrist was lit with a Rollie
Speak of bricks, been in the mix
Ain't shit you can show me
A king occasionally seen, stay in the wings
The success'll be when you closer
With folks sprayin' them things
In new Celine, the Louis mask over thе grill
Do the math, ain't gotta ask
Nigga holdin' for real
The omеn is sealed, I'm pardoned
Back sucker duckin' and dodgin'
Fire spitter, who could fuck with the arson?
I'm neutral, never frugal
Salute you if the feelin' is mutual
Play cuckoo, niggas comin to roof you
The true school
The vet and the Ghost involved
Out of respect
Still connect with the older gods
It's no façade, I rep it
My style is perfected and epic (yeah)
Not a blemish, let me finish my breakfast
(Brrt, uh)
Look what I did with the pot
Look what I did to the block
Bust the Presi band, fuck it
Look what I did to the watch (Ha ha ha)
Look what I did for the game
Look what I did when I dropped
My album kicked in the door
Niggas thought was forever locked
I woke them niggas up out they sleep (Hah?)
Bum-ass niggas was goin' broke
In the projects
Tryna figure out how they gon' eat (Ha)
See how they gon' speak on me
They know I'm constantly bodyin' beats
Best to come out of the
East since 'Bron in '03 (Talk to 'em)
Machine inspired y'all, I fired off first
The last year numbers alone
I can retire off merch (Facts)
My jacket is Pyer Moss, uh, diamond cross
They say I'm a risin' star
The PJ to fly across Earth (Uh, huh)
These are the perks, require hard work
But I acquired more worth
My niggas built the empire off perch (Woo)
That's fish and my niggas had bricks of it
(Ah) fuck this rap shit
We still good for cookin' pies
Like a brick oven
Rick Owens trench on, my wrist flooded (Hah?)
Put that drip on and your bitch love it
Goyard prints all on my bitch luggage
(Talk your shit, king)
My neck lookin' like I did Will Smith numbers
I'm gon' be runnin' shit the next six summers
(Brrt, uh) , Machine
Okay, all my blunts thin-skinned
I smell like pussy, money, weed
Where is the incense?
I like my drugs intense
Make her pussy lips give my
Dick a hug and kiss finger fuck then fist
I make love then sense
I make her friends kiss
But she don't let 'em kiss me
She make her friend sick
I make money make money
I make ugly taste lovely
I make money in my sleep and
Deposit what I wake up with
Got the Draco on
The gat with the longtail in the back
I might break my arm pattin' my
Own self on the back
Break the bank like I break the backboard
They call me Shaq the feds tried to book me
Found out that book was an almanac
Call me back tomorrow, baby, I'm busy
The work continues
I eat rappers alive and ask
For the dessert menu after the church
Send you the casket and dirt hit you
The nina gon' give you head right
After she flirt with you
Wayne, nigga, put some straightenin'
On my name, nigga
Gang, nigga, my track record like a train
Nigga young Money, let the moola burn
Drip like Lubriderm
I was bumpin' AZ and The Firm
When you was a worm, nigga
It's not a performance, it's a ritual
(It's a ritual)
