Kind Of Style Video (MV)

It seems like these cold sweats that they never stop
Am I at home yet or just in a better box
They take your legs and your head if you're dead or not
They catch a lot, and your friends, yeah, I bet they watch
If not, then they point in the right direction
Hypnotized, get inside with our white complexion
It's the truth, and they always say that shit hurts
But when I'm in the booth, I guarantee you get work
I'm in first with the pen scripts is berserk
Business and friendships is censored
No need to know how my IG is just music
Like, why you care who I f*ck
I don't trust stupid
You got my nuts in a clutch, and my gut's oozing
I call your bluff
I'm really tough
I'm Judge Judy
I just realized I hate every single one living
But the rhymes that I write bring light like the sun sizzling
Get with it
You know I'm sick with it
Look at my penmanship
It's straight ridiculous
You're so f*cking feminine
I ain't even rhyming now
You got vaginas now
Is that a kind of style
I don't think it is
And now you're blinking quick
I'm on a sinking ship
Stop being a bitch
Simple and plain, a dimple in your brain
I heard you got to make the best out of a situation
It's a test not to be less than the shit you raised in
I'm in amazement
These kids live for entertainment
I used to be the same way, and I missed arraignments
But you got to change if you want the bigger payment
Too big a risk to hit a lick
Man, that shit is dangerous, even for some bricks
Unless you with legit arrangements
These jits are strange, live for fame, pretty brainless
Speaking of which, I think I need a CAT scan
You a dude, but a bitch, you need a backhand
Welcome to this rap land, and what these cats really rap
Ain't really happening
What a sad scam
Maybe it's time to be a bit more authentic
Live for a cause more large than your car rented
Living like a con, what we got beyond riches
I'm the don, hear the song
I'm gone, bitches
Get with it
You know I'm sick with it, man
Look at my penmanship, it's straight ridiculous
You're so f*cking feminine
I ain't even rhyming now
You got vaginas now
Is that a kind of style
I don't think it is
And now you blinking quick
I'm on the sinking ship
Stop being a bitch
Simple and plain, a dimple in your brain
It's me and Vince, y'all
Back down in Chat Town
I got my boy Rick on the track
Let's go