(Verse)
My mind’s an art gallery, karats, lettuce salary
Never in a pickle, catch me chillin with the cavalry
That mean that I’m godlike, you bitches need sour drink
And I spit like a paintbrush, that is pain and got a masterpiece
And I am like a jungle full of motherfuckin mega beats
When I spit I break the first 3 letters of your legacy
Yea that mean I’m ill, hoe
Yea, that mean I drill so
Deep into this field slow
You should run cuz I’m on your heels hoe
You should run cuz I’m on that pill flow
That super fuckin real flow
That bring a bitch net back, in a jetpack
Stomp away her ill flow
Kill me when these bitches feel like speakin that coherent shit
Did this on my own, bitch
On my single parent shit
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