Max Clique - Masterpiece lyrics

[Verse 1: Langston Thoreau] Speak this thesis, written on pieces This is that geek sh**, water to the knee sh** Totem pole g sh**, make you say, "hot damn" Can't believe I see sh**, I'ma be sh** Panning my pleats and began in my speeches Martin to the Malcolm the outcome is genius In your d**h, we're eating, breathing, MCing Comin' with some future sh**, nobody's seeing Training on a microphone, someone getting sh** Pen and pad, paper beat, I'm so primitive Ten year visit, ten came home ripping and Feeling this cynicism, my penmanship's exquisite Listen, I am gifted and lifted from swinging Racks on the table, written in the kitchen Spittin' and riffin', my dreams is in Richmond Nothing was given it was all in my vision [Verse 2: Henry McCoy] Tunes like a monsoon, strong like a typhoon My crew crash through your room, I'm on the move with Sailor Moon Get the sniper ready, trying to get the world soon Forming like a bomb on you jerks, swagger boys boom Aim with precision, I'm precise with my vision Listen, paint the campus colors vivid Teach about my life's mission I've been on a conquest ever since I touched a pen Blood, sweat, and tears in my rap, its for grown men Record deals for ten mill-, play this on the radio Take that rapper off his pedestal then I cut his throat Tell him swing different, dealing with the okey dokes To doing what I wanna though, tell 'em what they oughta know [Bridge: Henry McCoy] So run to your boys now You can let your homies walk Grab your guns, clap your hands Then scream real talk Bet you feeling tough, huh? Prolly feel like popping off Just wanna look scary Might as well be like heaven's heart [Verse 3: Great Scott!] Max Clique be invincible, don't forget the name Or the motherf**ing principles, came like the rain Exposed an individual, new hippies come from old Criminals, its pitiful but I'ma stay real Still building in my citadel Spit like a king, scream f**, these n***as need Used to rock Tim's, now they stuck in skinny jeans Got a new skateboard, trade imaginary dreams n***as even took the pain, heard imaginary screams The swag is the drum, the loud is the dome Talk quiet on the job, all caps cross the phone Sharp tooth truth, all beef what I eat Getting freedom, take the kingdom, getting pieces for a week See my words kinda heavy, and the pain kinda deep And them bars' kinda nasty, so excuse, I repeat Getting freedom, take the kingdom, getting pieces for a week Smell like Rosé, my car and a tire Know I'm from the dirt, shots screaming through the fire Came to say these n***as ain't real, they all liars Now my 16's over, I'm done, call me retired Sportsman