Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah...
Dirty flow call it murder in the works,
One eighty seven every time I spit a verse,
When the fat lady sings,
That's all that she wrote,
Til' they calling me G.O.A.T.,
I got em' all taking notes,
Bitch I'm flyer than an airplane,
So get the fuck up out my airspace,
I pump the drive like a fairway,
Like the Ravens when we tailgate,
(Cawww) she is jailbait!
Don't even know what the fuck that they mean,
They downing my team and I'm drowning in dreams,
And I'm puffin' OG thru a snorkel,
Got your girl wetter than drunken oral,
I tell her take it off and I'm down with the floral,
These beer goggles on me got me feelin' hella formal,
But I ain't even mortal I bust thru the portal,
Of this mother fuckin industry like "hi, what's normal?!" aye!
Catch me throwing' blades like a samurai,
Watch me swerve shade like a satellite,
Catch me all blacked with the hood up,
Straight large pulling hate cards on these fake bars,
Feed off dominance no response,
I had to bring heat but there's no LeBron,
I had to burn everything KD,
Like all these beats that's how I'm feelin lately, aye!

Got the remix on the way,
Cause all of you day ones that stuck by my side,
I've been putting in work like I wouldn't survive,
I made a pact with myself til' the day I die,
That I'd never give up and I'd stay on track,
Perfecting my craft as I'm watching em' laugh,
As I'm getting these messages "watch your back,"
For real? I'm geekin! I'm probably sippin' Cognac!

Lyrics continue below...

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Keep on going with it no hook,
Had trouble keeping order in the notebook,
Should I call this shit flow or keep flowing?
Keep going keep growing or keep showing,
That this window ain't closing,
And I'm about to cause a blackout,
Cashed out like I'm straight up out the trap house,
It's so sideways that crime pays,
Losing sanity on the side of the fucking highway!

On nine five got nine lives,
Bout to hit the homie with the signed prize,
They ain't about it but all these little white lies,
When it comes down to it they cry on high crimes,
And what is that bullshit?
And fuck you for thinking that I've ever been a cool kid,
They always called me a straight nuisance,
Said one day you're really gonna lose it!
I'm feelin like a psycho misfit,
I'm writing like a might go win shit,
I'm fighting like a cyclone kingpin,
Doin' what I do this tightrope thinkin',
This greatness surround me like opinions,
Straight brilliance and I am thinkin billions,
Fuck the M I went straight for the B,
The grind so real it's in my name Double G!
And I can't wait for the summer album,
I might even drop it in the fall,
Cause I feel like it's going double platinum,
Man I might not drop it at all,
And I might just release a bunch of singles,
Or I might just keep em' to myself,
Or I might just send it to some labels,
Cause investments that equals wealth, uh!
Yeah... A lotta type of flows in my repertoire aye,
Yeah... A lot of long days by the reservoir aye,
Yeah... I knew it'd pay off like a credit card,
I'm where the weapons are I got my mental armed,
I'm charged up hit you with bars I call em' metal shards!

Ka-Ka-Keep on going with it no hook,
Had trouble keeping order in the notebook,
Should I call this shit flow or keep flowing?
Keep going keep growing or keep showing,
That this window ain't closing,
And I'm about to cause a blackout,
Cashed out like I'm straight up out the trap house,
It's so sideways that crime pays,
Losing sanity on the side of the fucking highway!

Writer(s): Gregory Myers, Akil Beqiri

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