[ Featuring Pilotkid ]
Solid gold choker, I channel my inner-pharaoh
Wear it skintight, neck like Serena at Roland-Garros
Whip got twin pipes, blowing hellfire like dragon nostrils
If the tints light, side streets only cuz niggas hostile
I can't overdo it, I must al dente the pasta
Bushu bolognese, something to stick to my intercostals
Bro said "hold on yeah, got some Givenchy for you to foster"
Cuz he know I had to drop all my Triple S's from roster
Matching pinky rings, I got bands on both hands, I'm a lobster
The Maya shell on me crimson, strengthen the metaphor
Every new creation I sprint to Caleb's like Skeletor
My evil laugh ricochet off the cave that I'm headed for
Crawled from the grave, 10 lil shovels ripped through the soil
My spirit wasn't ready to shuffle off mortal coil
The lyrics are rarely dummy ships, mainly they full of cargo
Most my drip imported, I eurostep trade embargoes
Every verse a brick, I been slapping em with a barcode
Niggas fiendin for em, they love to break down the lines
You should know this bustdown ain't useful for telling time
The minute hand isn't moving, it took a bullet to spine
Solid gold choker, I channel my inner-pharaoh
Wear it skintight, neck like Serena at Roland-Garros
Whip got twin pipes, blowing hellfire like dragon nostrils
If the tints light, side streets only cuz niggas hostile
I got something like a million apostles
Coat every track with adhesive so now they stuck to the gospel
Reward colossal from gambling on myself
But I'm still a lil resentful of niggas ain't give me help
So it goes, made it without that shit I suppose
Sharpened the flows, and organized all my ducks into rows
Reminiscing as I count up backend bucks in the Rolls
My tomb empty, but in nightmares I'm still stuck in that hole
Solid gold choker, I channel my inner-pharaoh
Wear it skintight, neck like Serena at Roland-Garros
Whip got twin pipes, blowing hellfire like dragon nostrils
If the tints light, side streets only cuz niggas hostile