Paradigm Part II (Prod. Lexi Banks)

Published by Cam James

  • 1 credits

So yeah...we're celebrating y'all playing my shit 100,000 times, with this joint right here. Wish I could think of somethin' cool to say but...I'll let the song speak. ----------- Verse 1 An ex-Black Panther, new Huey Newton, n I got an attitude like rapper dudes, invaded the Middle East to stack recruits how many barrels it gon' take 'em to get the fuck out? memorized train lines that's criss-crossin' the bus routes I'm the intersection of dope rhymin', that's interlaced wit' ghost prophets pushed the culture forward wit' broken pockets if you roll with my shit, tell ya mom she s'posed to listen give her them Watergates, chuck deuces and vote for Nixon Uhh, I had my fist up in the 70s, afro pick and a sack of weed rockin' Michael Jackson jeans no inaccuracies, back in them Astra seats, can't take me back to the store, you lackin' the master receipts producers haggle me, so I ain't been jackin' for beats dancin' in them same circles, opponents lackin' the reach we some athletes, comin' through erry time, so just bear in mind my legacy comin', fuck yo paradigm Verse 2 Arrest warrants, some death row fillers, illegitimate killers takin' they orders from on high, mother fuck Nazis and Hitlers I spit that real shit to the summit, get some of lost in 'cause my messages get hella deep, like white people in Boston I take hammers to walls, get the hell up out my way when Stannis call n swing off the bannisters when Lannisters fall tyrannical flaws, exposed, but I bet they can't repress droves of aggressive blows, fall like yo exes' clothes I got my passion on consignment, from cousins sick of swallowin' Ramen they done wrote the script for me, we all rhymin' and I made a promise, keep my shit honest, regardless facade ain't collapsin', like these demonic highly Protestant grimy assholes, power centers on undeservin' winners and cold winters, commence they reign over the rose trimmers ain't no beginners in this life size version of tug of war with some white lies, strugglin' when the light dies people demand that real shit, n i’m thinkin likewise break it down into bite size, sound bytes and they pick they poison I want my name on, checks, necks, trophies I’m hoisting el capitan, leadin’ my squad, been the strongest voice in flash mobs consisting of, the type of dudes that don’t hit the club a murderer’s hands that aint never fit the gloves and the populace equipped to love, 100% percent prescription drugs kill that source off, roll up and hit the plug, blaow! Bang bang, gunshots hit ya sternum and the top left of ya dome in time, fire burn ‘em like (AHH! AHH!) JFK after Nixon, it’s looking sweet (AHH! AHH!) then LBJ takin’ over, aint talking Heat Shift… fuck up out off the couch and dip, parallel universes the curtain lift pullin' idols out the sky, and they shooting blanks when they drive by, fly by, communist state, but I got wifi bitch