Check it out now...
I work the pen to make the ink transform
On any particular surface the pen lands on
The camera stands on, what's the beef?
The Cooley High cold chief high post techniques
I drape off poetic landscapes and shapes
Illustrate the paper space off the pens that paint
Then design what have a National Geographic a magic
With Taylor made status and plus favored is automatic
We're not balling
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-inWe holding onto what's golden
*On a stage I rage and I'm rollin'*
We're not balling, or shot calling
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-inWe holding onto what's golden
*On a stage I rage and I'm rollin'*
Melancholy mundane so I tame the hot flame
Big rings, fat chains, and y'all quest for the same
No name, use fame, strictly new to the thang
We stay true to the game and never bring it to shame
We tight like dreadlocks or red fox and ripple
We pass participles, and smash the artist in you
The saga continues, this I won't get into
'Cause there ain't enough bars to hold the drama that we been through
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