ft. Jeremiah Jae, Oliver The 2nd Yo Swat these gods out the sky like flies And roll deeper then graves upon my USS Enterprise I'm on the corner of the map These legends will never die Treat Los Angeles like international waters Call me baby momma 'cause I birthed your style So where's the alimony I hope that's what you're about to show me Me with my light bulbs and you with your coconuts Staying open across the dome of soaking the bud Ayo the ox stone, chopped limbs, top spending network Guillotine knock off heads, make your chest hurt Test the squirt gun, you're wet like spilt milk Don't cry to surreal deal, my eye in alignment sponsored links Your face on the triangle, jungle Squad put mobs in rectangles They rapper bodangles Black face stack cake for the catalogue You sh** on the gra** in a shack pushing cattle cars Black mags pull up the pig, lookout Shots through the lookout Glocks roll, flocks south While hundred sick and now street hunting Goodwill's LA, hood meals, liquor stores All we want is guns and d** All they want is guns and d** Feel more green Trying to feel more green Close your eyes and envision We coincide with the rhythm Despised by a critic, immortalized by the listener Probably diminished, couldn't survive in the system Where real wives men flourish and fools die there tripping Newport shorts smoke in the city breeze I never hit Four Loko and sh**ty trees The mic feel like a knife steel, gritty steeze Catch a slight chill trying ice grill Mr. Freeze I'm nice still like a nice pill, drift with ease The finest piff to accompany the epiphanies A lil' jerk copped the purp on his payday Take a hit, let the piff surf on his brainwave I rhyme with divine enchantment Cyborg mind enhancement Pandemic sized disaster I shake up your faith, please revive your pastor And dynamite light beaming blinding task force Blaq, Blaq You not a cat, you a mouse You a bird in a house Get your sheet wet, smoking shipwreck in your home Call the hoes, go for broke Coasting it now Spend your whole pig piles round the roast stick pile Lift the eye, now the whole thing highbrow Till it run outta gas It's high, high all the way to the cla** Make a quick stop at the ATM Make a Benz drop out of first cla** Hop out that plane, we make that vertigo dash It's like our competition is learning to crash I'm making a meal and then I'm burning the cash It's all about sending message There's not a whole lot of us left that's going back to the essence Three kings, golden incense f** the peasants f** your presence Call me the indefinite crooks These psalms are horcruxes Brains on crutches I clutch the mic, enticing these ears like Dick Butkus Rip 'em to shreds, with horse heads in the beds Optimism is the definition of misled You won't believe my meat is run this red It's Jaylib philosophy And Stones Throw sh** is a part of me to the point of ungodly But I've been a god since junior high, pinching a**es and bumping that Young Gotti Flow as mola**es, cutting crop like tractors Write my f**ing squad's name at the top of that bracket Blaq Russian, turning these other crews Prussian Crush 'em My boys'll turn something into nothing Blaq Russian, turning other crews Prussian Crush 'em My boys'll turn something into nothing