Cinematic, Multi-Alumni ya dig...
It's been long time coming, Sam Cooking
No tap dancing, just check booking
85 driving, Soul Surviving
Its either stay where you at or start riding
Old School Cars, Automatic Start
Went through hell and back to get a house with a garage
I see it clearer than Blu Ray, you see when its too late
A source separation from bouquets
From bitches with bootays, that I used to love, used to fuck
Never kissed, but I held and hugged
On the low tho, loved them all, when they balled
Spend it all just to get me rubbed in polo
Do what I can through God will
Never slack in the DJ booth I flex skills
I break it downnn like pounds of drum field
Push niggas off cause I'm King of my hill
King of my Ville, Don't enter I'm tellin ya
Fuck you and yours plus I'm killin ya messenger
Favorite rapper rapper rapper et cetera
Forever in the kitchen whipping feats for my brothera bruh..
Aye food for thought I was cooking, maybe stirred but not shooken
They tryna see if I got it, so I guess I'm Reggie Bushinn
Would appear I'm the favorite, mother fuckers be hatin
My mama told never say it but, yeah I'm the greatest
Like Ali without the shaking, history in the making
You thought I was a newcomer but baby you was mistaken
Murder beats in the masses, throw 'em in caskets
This plastic crematory flow, leave 'em in ashes
Candle light vigil, R.I.P. to beats
Must be something stupid fire deep in side of me
Honestly, you ain't fuckin with me
Krizzle be the truth, Even DJ Booth, had to be like what it do?
Look at you, ain't much time left, I think I should wish you well
For you no anticipation, I'm like 2 thousand 12
How much you tryna sell, perhaps you should find a shelf
To sit yo shit on, nigga I been flown
It's been long time coming, Sam Cooking
No tap dancing, just check booking
85 driving, Soul Surviving
Its either stay where you at or start riding
Old School Cars, Automatic Start
Went through hell and back to get a house with a garage
I see it clearer than Blu Ray, you see when its too late
A source separation from bouquets
From bitches with bootays, that I used to love, used to fuck
Never kissed, but I held and hugged
On the low tho, loved them all, when they balled
Spend it all just to get me rubbed in polo
Do what I can through God will
Never slack in the DJ booth I flex skills
I break it downnn like pounds of drum field
Push niggas off cause I'm King of my hill
King of my Ville, Don't enter I'm tellin ya
Fuck you and yours plus I'm killin ya messenger
Favorite rapper rapper rapper et cetera
Forever in the kitchen whipping feats for my brothera bruh..
Aye food for thought I was cooking, maybe stirred but not shooken
They tryna see if I got it, so I guess I'm Reggie Bushinn
Would appear I'm the favorite, mother fuckers be hatin
My mama told never say it but, yeah I'm the greatest
Like Ali without the shaking, history in the making
You thought I was a newcomer but baby you was mistaken
Murder beats in the masses, throw 'em in caskets
This plastic crematory flow, leave 'em in ashes
Candle light vigil, R.I.P. to beats
Must be something stupid fire deep in side of me
Honestly, you ain't fuckin with me
Krizzle be the truth, Even DJ Booth, had to be like what it do?
Look at you, ain't much time left, I think I should wish you well
For you no anticipation, I'm like 2 thousand 12
How much you tryna sell, perhaps you should find a shelf
To sit yo shit on, nigga I been flown
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