Whats good good

And what's good evil

And what's good gangstas
And what's good people

And whys God's phone die
Every time that I call on Him
If his son had a Twitter wonder
If I would follow him

Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon
Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum

Studious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him
Pics of they genitalia tallied up ten of em
I slurped too many pain-kills  downing em off a lot
I got a lot off days but it ain't often
That I'm off the clock
Ya' know I mean

I got the Chicago Blues

We invented rock before the Stones got through

We just aiming back cause the cops shot you
Buck buck bang bang  yelling Fuck Fox News
Booyaka buckle up  mothafuck ops too
Ain't no knuckling up em young cause it just not cool
Nice to see you Father New Year
Middle finger Uncle Samuel

Shooting death and waving dice
And hitting stains on birthday candles
I know somebody  somebody loves my ass

Cause they help me beat my demons ass

Everybody's somebody's everything

I know you are

Nobody's nothing

That's right

Everybody's somebody's everything
I know you are

Nobody's nothing

That's right
Everybody's somebody's everything

That's right

Nobody's nothing
I know you are
Right IGH

I used to tell hoes
I was dark light or off white
But I'd fight if a nigga said that I talk white
And both my parents was black
But they saw it fit that I talk right
And my draws here but my heart
And head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite

But gravity had me up in a submission hold
Like I'm dancing with the Devil
With two left feet and I'm pigeon toed
In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole
And two missing toes
But it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe
Nice to see you Father New Year
Middle finger Uncle Samuel
Shooting death and waving dice
And hitting stains on birthday candles
I know somebody  somebody loves my ass

Cause they help me beat my demons ass
Like Cassius ducking the draft
And now the fight is over
The type that love from a distance
Not the type that towed her
Spent three days on the rap
Trash it and type it over

With babies on the block under
Arms like fighting odors
Coppers and quotas
Hold ya head like 2Pac had taught
Honestly they are on a come up

With better chances tobogganing
In the fucking summer

Concoctions for the bad days
And a condom for the good ones
All odds against we tryna get lucky
Doper than lucky
You ain't that happy that's only a tuggy
Like Satan masturbating shit come hot
But y'all still love me ugh
How father time of dead be
Maybe I'm adopted
That'll explain why all of
My shit been so timeless IGH
Everybody's somebody's everything

I know you are
Nobody's nothing

That's right
Everybody's somebody's everything

Nobody's nothing

Everybody's somebody's everything

That's right

Nobody's nothing

I know you right

Nobody