Kinfolk GAWNE

[Chorus]
My foes keep me on my toes, it’s hella disgusting
If they ever catch me slipping, end of discussion
Send a rose to my mother tell her that I love her
But send my guns to my kinfolk, get ‘em brothers

[Post-Chorus]
Go get ‘em brothers, go get 'em brothers
Go get ‘em brothers, go get ‘em brothers

[Verse 1]
These rappers live on the 'Gram, for followers and clicks
They goin’ out with chicks, women post a thousand pics
As they tag your location, Satan is out to snatch your chain
He’s waitin’ 'round to blow your brains out
Thеy put out a hit, yeah
I don’t do camera filters, don’t count on it
It’s a roll of dicе when you go loggin’ into that account again
Cause y’all don’t know the price when it is real life and you encounter men
Who wanna start a murder scene, social currency’s counterfeit
Rappers tryna get lots of guap, not gon’ stop ’til they go cop a yacht
Hoppin’ from spot to spot, dodging paparazzi
When you in Casablanca, then they go cock a Glock (BA BA BA)
Put ‘em on a choppin’ block, y’all finna get rocked and socked
Cause the block is hot, bitch I’m not the one you
Wanna play with, y’all better quit eggin' me
Wait and see, we’ll go A to Z
Serrated blade’ll turn you haters, to grated cheese, slice and dicing
I’m knifing your life at night like ISIS
And wiping the blood, on your frightened wife, she’s afraid of me
And if only one of us is leaving it’s not you, dog
No welcome to the gulag, run into Luke Gawne
The final boss, this ain’t Michael Scott from The Office
I go crazy with the beats like I’m Dwight from Schutte Farms