[Intro]
Who you foolin'? Only foolin'
Who you foolin'? Only foolin'
[Verse 1: Dove]
Yo, I stay cousin to this, introducing Mr. Dave Banner
Scannin' proper with my sight muscle
This rap shit, is just my night hustle
My J-O's to stay fearin' of my G-O-D
Whether what may, meet me at the front door
See the pressure got a nigga knockin shit off his desk
'Cause of the stress I stack words make cats bruise they neck tissue
Stay pertinent to the issues
Cut your tag too close, display these verses tight, virtuals
Sort of like we supposed to, pantyhose raps you run
Stay dumb like black folks who boasts C's
Mostly fakin' it, to make it
[Verse 2: Pos]
I play low-key 'til it's time for you to know me
Stir my lime with light, drink it down slowly
Holy shit, now look what I get
A whole string of party people wanna run in my mix
In my world, they wanna fit like melanin in a tit
Jam tight, they ain't my fam, alright? They ain't my people
Them niggas screamin' fam 'til they rank measure equal
Then vote, without leavin' a note, and that was all she wrote
Arranged, produced, my slang's obtuse
But some distort, tellin' stories like Mother-the-Goose
My true fam's is David J back since with Vince Mason
We'll draw on three, leave that body for the tracin'
Ultimate high, like them drugs you be lacin'
Coulda stood next to me, at the top of the key
But you had to play gutter, didn't want to climb
Now you find yourself talked about in my rhyme
Who you foolin'? Only foolin'
Who you foolin'? Only foolin'
[Verse 1: Dove]
Yo, I stay cousin to this, introducing Mr. Dave Banner
Scannin' proper with my sight muscle
This rap shit, is just my night hustle
My J-O's to stay fearin' of my G-O-D
Whether what may, meet me at the front door
See the pressure got a nigga knockin shit off his desk
'Cause of the stress I stack words make cats bruise they neck tissue
Stay pertinent to the issues
Cut your tag too close, display these verses tight, virtuals
Sort of like we supposed to, pantyhose raps you run
Stay dumb like black folks who boasts C's
Mostly fakin' it, to make it
[Verse 2: Pos]
I play low-key 'til it's time for you to know me
Stir my lime with light, drink it down slowly
Holy shit, now look what I get
A whole string of party people wanna run in my mix
In my world, they wanna fit like melanin in a tit
Jam tight, they ain't my fam, alright? They ain't my people
Them niggas screamin' fam 'til they rank measure equal
Then vote, without leavin' a note, and that was all she wrote
Arranged, produced, my slang's obtuse
But some distort, tellin' stories like Mother-the-Goose
My true fam's is David J back since with Vince Mason
We'll draw on three, leave that body for the tracin'
Ultimate high, like them drugs you be lacin'
Coulda stood next to me, at the top of the key
But you had to play gutter, didn't want to climb
Now you find yourself talked about in my rhyme
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