Bryant Dope, Perrion, Joey Bada$$ - New World Order lyrics

I need an explanation
For the hating in this generation
I guess niggas feel deflated
When you on a road to greatness
Patiently waiting since I was a toddler
Nodding to niggas who was mobbing
Deep in Queens with my brother
And father in a Honda
Now picture how I'm pitching that
Pitching crack with my written raps
With a bitch sitting on my lap
Niggas feelin wack
Swear I'm finna tax niggas
Who wanna hear my shit on wax
Watch your back for these snake-ass, fake
Tell the jake-ass niggas
They be chilling in the mountains
Finna break back niggas know
Wonder how I come up with these great tracks
Nigga you would've thought that I been
Spitting since eight tracks was bigger


Figure this little nigga
Been writing since Jigga was tight with Dame
We need something more enticing in the game
What's the name muh'fucker?
We standing right here
We’ll appear in rare form like
Flex while shifting gears in the new whip
Color of Cool Whip
They askin who shit on the sample
Lupe, the half spanish dude
Eating spanish food
Sucking danish boobs in Atlanta
With too much time on his hand
Met with Ruin made a fucking masterplan
Ask the man himself
Bitch I'm tryna manage wealth
Spit a couple dope bars
That’ll surely damage health nigga
Check the opus bitch I'm focused
What's the motive
I don't know but hocus pocus
Couldn't play a fucking joke on this
Token black smoker kid going on the opening
Like I'm fuckin a girl after she
Unfold from the lotus stance nigga

The flow I'm pitchin' got me
Hittin' with perfect precision
I hope that you're listenin'
The rhythm is rugged and wicked
Like the composition
Where all of the rhymes are written
Like cotton I'm pickin'
Lines from fields of my mind, I'm rippin'
Those like gold ropes from the neck of hoes
Who shine with flashy clothes and
Tip on four Vogues
I'm offbeat in the dome like a bad snare
A young nigga from Queens
Who don't fuckin' care
I know a gang of niggas
Who blaze and pull triggers
Got bodies and count figures
Rob women and stab bitches
I don't be with 'em
But they my niggas though
Move slow or your crew
Is fallin' like dominoes i done known
Bitches in my city who are down to go
But they all fake
Like the Louis clutch that they hold
Now she know
She was just a ho to me and my niggas though
I am gone blowin' that good shit, Cali grown
I am known in my city and in your town
Queens kids comin' up just to tear it down
I am crowned prince of my city
More Puffy, less Diddy
More money, more titties dope

I been killing 'em
Your bitch been feeling him
Ya'll can't be serious like
Films Ben Stiller in
Nobody iller than him at the
Top of his adrenaline
Flow sweet like cinnamon
Name a chick that I ain't swimming in
Uh, got flow for days
I'm sure to get paid if
They hate the price on son's life
It's sure to get raised
But there's no break when I got you pinned in
Said it uno, dos, tres then fin
I let him swim with like
Mad fishes, In the cut like mad stitches
I know you mad bitches mad
How my style switches
So, frequently be freaking MC's
With these frequencies
These freaking trees got me
Soaring over freaking seas
Too many freaking G's claim they
Make that deuce pop
Please, the only shit you ever
Squeeze was your juicebox nigga
And you know it
Cause real G's don't have to show it
Got your head in the clouds, so big homie
Gotta get you focused
But no, it's all a part of the business
Don't take it personal
It must be hurting you to know
I could be merkin' you
At will, whenever I feel, the shit get realer
For scrillas
Get the beats out till a nigga Dilla
I shine like crystals, never held a pistol
Never packed a tool
But that don't mean that I won't fix you
Who is you? I don't give a F
I do it effortless tell your messengers
They can get opened like beverages
Da fuckin' specialist