Chef Mal - Follow Me Lyrics

Step up in my kitchen
You taketh the heat
Stop it with yah bitchin
Just packeth the leaves

Im feelin on my Shakespeare
I wieldin on my snake spear
Make up on her face
Now she got a face smear

I put it in, geez
I put it in, deep
Bet against, me
Back it up, beep
I'm playin for, keeps
I'm Crazy out my mind
Don't give a f*ck bout you

Build up my empire
Make my fields green
Started drinking booze
When I was seventeen
Had to put it down
At age the twenty four
I'm holdin on the key
That will open any door

It starts with hard work
When you wake everyday
The minute that you start
Your ambition decay
You keep on pushin
Let em know your name
Put the pin in the cushion
I'm throwing up Maine

Am I the only one
Tryna make it to a stage
Am I the only one
Tryna make it with the fame
Am I the only one
Or am I the one to blame

The effort that you're putting in, Is looking kinda lame
How you expect to be famous, or ever get paid
I'm a slave to this rap game, put it on my grave
Made a deal with my demon, that I will never pray

Listen to my words as you're smokin on the Mary J
Go burn down the stack to find the needle in the hay
You'll never get your dreams by sittin playin games
Paint your own picture then go on build your own frame

Switch the page, up in my book
I'll never go back, I'll never go look
But never forget, the time it has took
To break from these bars
And start laying them down

To pace with these words
And start spitting them out
Calm the voice in my head
By straight ripping up clouds

If I'm putting it down
Then I'm building it up
I'll break down a pound
And start rolling it up

Now switch up my flow, I'm a man on a mission
I'll never give up, I'll keep fighting for inches
I'll slice up yah writtens, In a matter of minutes
Have you stinkin an shittin, inside of yah britches
Keep hidden some switches, of lyrical disses
F*ck the snitches get stitches, I'm slittin the wrists
And cutting the ties, with you son of a bitches
I know who is listening, by who is my critic

I'm feeling, on fleek
As I'm taking on the world
I'm stacking up, G's
Best believe that it plural
I'm touching, on me
As I'm peeling back the Dutch
I'm alone on this road
Best believe I lost touch

Put the stone in my hand, and I'll turn it to sand
I pull out my tongue, and I spray it with PAM
To be slick with my words, I reach up my hands
If I was touched by a god, best believe I'm god damned

I'm filling with rage
As I fill up this page
Let me out my cage
An I light up the sage
Let me out the underground
I'll light up the stage
I've come a long way
Since a minimum wage

I wanna build a movement
An solidify ties
While your sitting back cruising
I'm going ninety five
Man I'm working my ass off
To solidify mine
While you're at home losing
I'll work nine to two

And That's just the mixes
Then I'll work a two to nine
While I'm cooking up dishes
I'm thinking about rhymes
I'm staying up late
And waking up early
Open up my eyes
I start writing lyrics

Follow me I am the leader
At Tweetachai promote my features
Bump my shit at your leisure
At Tweetachai I'll fill the bleachers