(verse 1)
You may never know how great this is. Sitting on the Great Lakes, raking in a great estate. Staying in a grin. Still penning away. You’re gettin’ pissed, but, in a way, you don’t listen to what the kid spits. Deliberate trippin’. Laces replace your face when you bite. And there comes a new byte. Sound. Gettin’ down. Lookin’ around. Started from basements. Push-ups. End up looking up with great -gress. Like “Di-? No.” Like “I’m kind of why I’m a wino. And I don’t wanna complain. Therefore, ...why don’t I roam?” Almost building. Like Bob. But y’all know the feeling. Ask the children. You should like the guy who writes a lot and says it’s from the top. Now you’re mad. Better than hot. Try to battle me, get a veteran shot. Looks like time did. I’m timeless. When I spit, thy spit. That’s my shit.
(Hook)
She got me like, “Mercy, mercy, mercy!”
I hope I’m worthy. Has she heard me?
Challenge my sound, get ya neck chopped off!
Get ya neck chopped off!
Challenge my sound, get ya neck chopped off!
Get ya neck chopped off!
(verse 2)
They had me a ring. That’s why they get at me a thing or two. Thing, being time. “We need a rhyme to bring a genius through and... see if he can define where he would be if weren’t defined by the inner essence within.” It’s like Bry-nding in the Brown. You’re almost finding out time is down. You wind up in the house (Great Pyramid of Giza). Wine out of your mouth. Referring to YOU. Have you lost in this convertible’s moves? And no one wants to go from purple to blue. It’s not “choosing game”. Meaning it’s not finding your shoestrings to move your pain away with. You start from the top of what you got a lot of. A lot of love.
(Hook)
She got me like, “Mercy, mercy, mercy!”
I hope I’m worthy. Has she heard me?
Challenge my sound, get ya neck chopped off!
Get ya neck chopped off!
Challenge my sound, get ya neck chopped off!
Get ya neck chopped off!
(verse 3)
I watched a poet pick up a song. Put it back down. I guess he’s Brawn. I guess he’s fuckin’. You never mess up, but when you’re upset, it’s nothing. “What you cut up?”, you said. Now what you need to say is in your face. And taken. And breathing. Since it needs a day or two to speak what it’s seeing. Beauty and grieving. Speed and nudity. You are involved with truancy. A newer star would be who would be Bar and barring with me. Immediately. As if you need a repeat. Uptown, where’s the streets. #TheHood, where Brown is the grief.
(Hook)
She got me like, “Mercy, mercy, mercy!”
I hope I’m worthy. Has she heard me?
Challenge my sound, get ya neck chopped off!
Get ya neck chopped off!
Challenge my sound, get ya neck chopped off!
Get ya neck chopped off!
