Hey hey hey (hey) just display a rhyme skill man. That what it is 92 till infinity and beyond. Heh heh and beyond. Allright look monthafuckas still rap beyotch. Hey when I was fifteen it was my dream to work with pream. He believed in what I do so now hes makin' this beat. And im writin' these rhymes makin' sure that I kill it. Shinin like im a critic the goverment cann't conceal it. My style they try to steal it. Cus' people startin to feel it. Im goin on these adventures somethin like on a field trip. And now im growin up lookin around this planet. Some shit be goin on and I just can't understand it. No need to panic I got to expand it. A million downloads im takin over your bandwidth. Moments all can did kodak reminisin go back. Life feel good want yall to know that. Don't have no dill and no half a mill. Just on my game start shit with some mass appeal. Go platinum independently incredibly dope. You needa tell a scope to come and get at me. And maybe I could never see to label my identity. They see my middle finger shut the fuck up and let me be. That how its always been and how it will be. Filthy ass rhymes makin money but im still me. Flippin' the mics spittin' this nice. Never could get everything that I like. Now I can copy no matter the price. Fuck if you get it I'm rappin for life. You can't tell me shit I got my own mind. Its six in the morning and now its go time. Hey had to take the beat and let it breath usin up the oxygen. The kid he go rockin' and there ain't to stoppin' you. See me stockin' up workin every second of the day and still not enough. Now on that cocky stuff wat yall to acknowledge us. If you don't suck my dick bitch esophagus. You probably just go all on the internet. See a conversation and you fell the need to interject. I ain't finished yet dont think this kid a threat. I'm on the lose end find me supervision yet. You an mp3 im still in a set vintage yet. Futuristic with some shit taht split your dick(deck). My cadence complex rhyme without a concept. Atomic bombs your just a stupid fake bomb threat. Six in the morning and im writing these rhyme workin hard. So that you know every night is a grindfine