Joey Bada$$, Capital STEEZ - Killuminati lyrics

Yes, skrawberries

I'm a beast with these flows
Two birds, one stoned
You get geese’d when trees rolled
They say I'm evil cause I trained
My ego to see gold
Cause he know, seagulls couldn't
See these goals, please
It's the return of the Beast Coast
No cash flashed
But the cheese still make teeth show
Incognito, is how you move on the strip
What you tryna be Vito? Well
There's rules to this shit
Don't get clapped, y'all ain't real spitters
Y'all lips chapped
Better watch it, Mr nice Watch
Don't risk that i got a six pack of bare
Skill that I spill like that
And everybody know (that shit crack)
Y'all niggas softspoken, down below choking
The type to drop the soap when you
Soakin' in front of most men
It makes sense why you want beef
Well this frozen
It's nuts for you screwed in the tool
And can't hold em
Better shoot yourself Plaxico
Because I'm next to go
The Progressive flows from New
York to New Mexico
My lyrical span is what the fans is demandin'
Step into my box and that's
Exactly what'chu stand in
Ain't no half steppin' around me
And you gotta drown a fish
Before you clown me
The young cop killer, I'm that ill
So doc' will ya
Give me two shots for 2Pac killer, nigga

Soul searchin' 'til my flows are perfect
I ain't tryna be a slave
To grow old from workin' sorry Bada$$
You lucky that I peeped it second
Tell them niggas keep it steppin'
With they beat selection
Check the melodies, it's so heavenly
That shit'll get your hips to
Move with no 7D's
Audi-opium, can I bust soliloquies?
Got that shit mixed and mastered
Both remedies
Grab a spoonful, we stirrin' up a pot
And you know we gotta serve it while it's hot
I'm flowin' like a volcano and
Drippin' verses off the top
Dirty cops still swervin' on the block
Lookin' for black kids, that spittin' up acid
It's in my jeans so don't
Worry what my pants is
Get with the script, it's that ignorant shit
And they bound to get sick of us
Quick but I ain't sealin' my lips
It's a shift, I know you feel it man
We blowin' up like a ceiling fan
Droppin' off jewels like Killa Cam's man
When it comes to kickin' verses
I'm Mr van Damme
Crushin' strawberries, it's a jam
So throw up both hands if you can
Ironic how I'm killin' this shit
Until they bury me
My volume is going in depth with longevity
Stupids