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T. Smith - Coming Soon lyrics

[Produced by D-Lyt]

[Verse 1: T. Smith]
k**ing on this beat, piano in the background
Made it to the top without even a Soundcloud
These rappers are dumb, you're talking about you got loud
Talking about you toting guns, but all you tote's a loud mouth
Yeah we coming from the bottom, rolling up and down south
Get it? Up and down south, spread it all around town
Ask the neighbors, I'm dope as hell come smell it's that amazing
Adderall's for adoration, zany bars for aspiration
Candy bars, you rappers spitting candy bars no approbation
For it, I'm touring through the belly of the beast
Without my navigation, agitation building up my aggravation
Just got my evaluation, doctor said I'm sick
There's not a vaccination, Martian's verse is astronaut
Zakk Scott, T-Smitty, freeing Willy back off
Pack of dogs on my team we don't need a mascot
Popping caps on these rappers we don't need a caps lock, uh

[Verse 2: Zakk Scott]
Me and Trevor Smith, we're products of the same struggle
Circumstances earned us chances, voices that you can't muffle
We're the ones you make chuckle rapping bout you hustling
You trying to take the game? You better take a number b**h
You can't f** with this that just be asking for trouble
[Lyrics from: https:/]

So either shut your lips or let me grab you a muzzle
Because me and T we run this sh**, we be repping Palm Harbor
We be like tsunamis, and competition's calm water
Except that they got no allure, can't reel me in no fish bait
Yet they stuck up on themselves, call them double-stick tape
Maybe it's not right for me to dictate "this good, this ain't"
But you're rapping like it's sixth grade dick face, quit playing these kid games
Incompetent collaborations, nothing about you's fascinating
All your beats and raps are basic and your words are fabrications
Check your last location, why you rhyming like you street?
Relying on the beat, why you lying on the beat?
What you trying to achieve? Make us think you're so hood?
I'd shoot for higher dreams, because we just think you're no good
Constantly be spitting thug rap, f** that, you ain't moving bricks
Stupid prick thinks saying doing it'll make his music sick
Please try not to take this wrong but if you live in Sabal Palms
I love to be the one say this: you're not a gangsta, dog!
If all you cook is trap beats, and only say you pack heat
I'm sorry but you're gonna have to be the rapper Zakk eats
I'd make a joke about eating wrappers but Trevor already did
Clever kids, yes we is, fresher than you ever been
That's why we gon' drive Benzes while you lie about your benzos
So homie stop pretending, get the memo? You're not ghetto
I'd probably have some respect for you if you did something new
But everything that comes from you, I never heard nothing true
And if I'm not who you're bumping to when I get on, I'm Big Sean
I don't f** with you

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