Caskey - Cleaning Out My Closet Freestyle lyrics

Where's my snare? Yo shout out Kells
Seeing him doing the freestyles
Got me inspired

Yeah, okay, paranoid gotta keep a pistol
On the black dresser
Went twice as far as most of the rappers
Where I come from 'cause
They some half-steppers
Ironic that mama ain't wanna hear
Me playing no rap records
I turned into a professor
Unless you dropping that weak
Shit I'm a oppressor
These pills I got homie
They not prescription
Posted up on Church St
Getting money but it's not religion
Mom, she was so saint-like
Who I gotta thank for these thug habit's?
Dad stopped playing baseball with the kid
Went to be a drug addict
Meditating at the crib
Tryna clear this conscience
Two devils on my shoulder talking in my ear
Homie and it's constant took so many Ls
Feel like I never come after Ws
Like when you write an
Address and abbreviate Wisconsin
So many fake ballers in the game
Feel like I'll always be deranged
If I buy some chains off Shopgold then
We all could be the same
Y'all took "take it till you make
It" to an all-time high, I can't relate
I'd rather be honest 'bout where I'm
At and whip up more butter, make the cake
Y'all scraping up change and you on
The street looking like low riders
Yelawolf Black Sheep set the whole wave
Now a bunch of white rappers
Some flow biters
Fuck it I got more drive than
A transmission and four tires
If you never paid homage
Clutch the Louis bag when you roll by us
In a industry full of ghostwriters
No telling who could rap
Having someone else tell your whole story
How the fuck you cool with that?
Got six mug shots on the internet
Homie and you could Google that
And I went Melly when the police came
I got nothing to do with that
I grew up round biker gangs
Never say a damn word then
Get the RICO dropped
Y'all favorite rapper telling
On they homeboys
Went and got they people got
Shit I can't respect, police come
I can't recollect
She gave me head inside of that sprinter
Her and my dick are neck and neck
Black sheep records on the chain
From Johnny Dang it's on the way
I made a Latto off of these raps
Y'all pockets thick as Coi Leray
Thought I'm producing albums for
Drake the way that I make this forty play
Have forty motherfuckers outside your house
It won't cost me 40K
I'm that same kid signed to Birdman
Back when I was the herbman
American History X, shave the head
Have you biting the curb man
They'll get a handout then double-cross you
I seen that shit firsthand
Homie said he don't know if
He could be a star
Had to tell him you sure can
God Father, y'all kiss the ring
When the king come, thumbing through
A motherfucking check
Bet none of y'all ever seen ones
Reason why they give mean mugs
Y'all tryna give the kid smoke
But, I got clean lungs
Type of shit make me wanna
Go and grab machine guns speaking of which
The first rapper that I ever
Linked with was Kells
Back when he was touring down South
Florida and I was working scales
Passing CDs outside of shows for free
Wasn't even making sales
Then he linked, gave me a feature
Said "You a real one and we could tell"
Then I got signed
That two hundred grand was like
Money in the mail
But then them drugs took me into deep water
Got hard for me to sail lost my deal
Went broke for a little while
I had my ego frail
Upset that I never did what he did
Had to watch as he prevailed
But, I never hated on him
Prayed for him and cheered from the side
Know another man's success really got
Nothing to do with mine
That shit was motivation to stop complaining
And get back on the grind
Go make that music that resonate with you
Let God deal with the time
Think about how Van Gogh never sold a
Lot of paintings while he was alive
Remind yourself that you accolades aren't
How you are defined
Think about pop's face hearing that you
Rap first time before he died
Think about that kid who said if it wasn't
For you then he wouldn't have survived

Real shit "Cadillac Music" on the way
I wanna say thank you to the fans, man
Black Sheep forever