Mother May I Make mayhem Like A.I Sprayin from out the paint from away away Like Kamehameha Slaves to cable as the written word wanes Propaganda poppin easy access to the bird brains Ya heard me? Brother You lack the taste Walk in to the function lookin crooked as a bag of snakes Don't let him drag the Wraith Or else he'll prolly slash your breaks 30 for the Martin van Buren bitch That's an 8th Lacerate Your ass will probably crash and bake Similar to how I stay cooked on them saturdays Over amassin' fame Boutta blow like gas to flame Blowing glass to make a bong No more need to ash the pain Yeah Scalping tickets to my own fuckin funeral Put some x's in your eyes no Roman numeral Doomed in a cubicle Catch me up in Utica picking shrooms and consuming them Bitch What's goin on I'm really gettin' money I'm really fuckin bad bitches Really livin my life Havin fun enjoyin myself Oh peachy Bitch I'm facin crowds I need the riot shield You puffing legal, my dealer hit me Supply the sealed I'm turnin Jasper into Mount Olympus I'm who yo bitch hits supply the sickness smoke eucalyptus Shit Workin' hard my whole team need a break Paris Metro station hoppin over gates Raise the bar is just my train of thought Train to stop all these scheming niggas on my latest plot I get the work in order, flow dirty like hoarders Always keep it a hunnid while puffin through the quarter This a different aura shawty like this life, light the spliff up We split up and reunited for pipe Livin the dream as long as I kill the game Ever since I met Lucy I don't feel the same Young Trip snapped Ya added the fuel to flame See I just signed my city You knew that I'm here to claim Wassup