[Verse 1: Art Morera]
Honestly can't remember when I wrote this
Just remember being home sick at the wheel
Be aware of who you deal with
And don't front 'em cuz when they start running you're gonna
Find yourself on a
Few field trips to recoup and scoop up your meal tickets
How can we still kick it?
You are no longer real to me, it feels different
No foundation to build with me
You crack under pressure, f** you smokin, what k**ed Whitney?
If you're joking I'm hearing crickets
No kiddin', it's not funny
Know who's laughing? Nobody
Hurt your feelings? I'm so sorry
But f** it, them ba*tards they did me dirty like 'of this sh**, I'm Osiris
Spittin sick and the flow a virus
All these zombie a** bullsh**tin' rappers can go and bite it
Long as you know who the tightest is
But since you've been listening, I feel like I'm Goku when I'm writing
And this immortal so if you gotta go, cool
I'll be right here rhyming when you press play
Some things are just way to hard to explain
I just rise above them all
When you spit tight, ideas ignite as if I might've left the oven on
Now whatchamacall that? A double entendre?
Run this back if you want me to give you peace of mind
Like John Lennon on a harmonica
Morera the moniker
This is the chronicles of a man who could've lost at a hearing
From all that loud chronic he sold
Fresh air in a cloud of smoke
[Hook: Art Morera]
I counted ten G's, dawg
I was like (Yes!) the first time I counted ten G's
[Verse 2: Art Morera]
I counted ten G's steering with my knees
Only driver swerving was staring at me
'f**in' lame, stay in your lane' I looked over and told him
But really, can you blame him?
Lord knows that I was broke once, had to make a change
You would be grossed out if you knew what my pay in gross was
How can a guy from my city operate at
Such a high velocity?
Poppa raised a rolling stone, there's no moss on me
The f** are we talkin' bout? I'm too stoned to be gossiping
Too grown to be caught slipping, I mean, you know?
Too old to be writing rhymes in my mom's kitchen
All I follow is God's wisdom, I'm bout to delete my twitter
I'm out in the streets gettin' it
Got a fan base regardless of how low it be
This for y'all so much love to who's following me
If you called and I missed it, I was prolly asleep
Dreamt about a noose around my neck as I fall in defeat
So check it, wake me up out my slumber if you have my phone number, won't ya?
Thoughts of a rope got your boy going under, damn
[Hook: Art Morera]
One time I counted forty G's
Took my cut off the top and returned it to the plug that fronted me
My word is A1 times three
I counted ten G's
I counted ten G's