LYRIC

[Part I: Afro(dillafreeform)] [Instrumental Used From J Dilla] [Verse] My afro moving messier than bushes, tells I’m
Pushing out quadruple of bullets from nozzles back on my
Bullshit, no pulling muscles from tonsils want to be taken
Tape measure tumble your throttle once really waiting
Awakening, niggas better for startles, a start for stapling
Freddo charts, staples at stakes, overstay welcomes, we
Well-in that well; overfill to maple syrup pavements
Pays more writtens but saving your bitch tasting, the
Trays-in a train, waving you waiting lay back, patience a
Patient gon’ pray, planning with posing pay-back, pain is up
In my back; the paper gon’ paint it black, blank face
Rolling when a schoolboy knows the queue to fill a piggy bank
Pinky turned bastard when a rude boy ain’t giving back
Backstab answers when a decoy bad-lipping shit
Lipping stacked, lip-read like a nigga 9k, 3k to
Triple stacks, trick the scene like Kubrick’s about it when
Equipping the camera angles, grip on groups for the flicks to match
Skipping, tabs to manual, gear on sixteen the pen intact
Make it back you living for steering after my pen and pad with
Sevens fed the packet of Jackals, prevent a medic pack
Back depend on fearing I’m listening for go on ten perhaps
Pans on end for searing my fucking lips with the tenant cracks
Been a bad nigga, I’m hearing to slump the center grabs
Sinning mad turn to menace I’m meant for amps so I better rap
Bet I’m packed for it, I’m patched for it, ain’t that foreign
To the matches stored-in, when toe-to-toe you get capped scorching
Borderline gore when the doors are open, you slam for it
Ran poorer saw the light, saw it’s mine; far from slap drawings
Either that or I’m Dad with the matted raps say I’m
Catching your flattened ass with the fans in my other hand and that’s
Facts in a baggage, bagging a couple bodies, you didn’t learn to
Adapt and you damned when redacting your laps it happens you
Ran away, stamp the breaks when on the way I pass your plate
Driving through abundance in punches I can afford it, that’s
Saviour with the pair of arms never plastered, slap a born loser
On, putting niggas on blasters near stacks of stormtroopers
God, pulling tricks from that past, still couldn’t mourn sooner
Monsoon, full it’s in form, fill up with talks ruder
Tall neck, torso looking bruised, bruise up to ballsy boosters
Boots to kick up stalls next to top of cooked-in colossal cuckoo
Cloudy looking heads bout to pop or poof with a portal shooter
Half my life been more than a free man to go immortal moving
Hands fluent in combat, dumb mics record tunes with
Tooth crooked, left for dead but stand a fortress, thoughts grooving
Off, said I’m deaf when the booming bashes canals, set to
Bed, guess I’m dead when the room is crammed on its own nigga
Said you ain’t the nigga but Dilla beats do nuts, filling me
Up with couple heats and bread go rise, time the heart pillars

[Part ii: Cocoa] [Instrumental Produced By Jackaltheblackal]

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