I got it
Namir, Namir
You're not worth a hundred thousand dollars
You fell off, you suck at music
You failed your music career
You know what I'm sayin'
I got nothing but, I got no-no disrespect to show but that
Uh, Namir you're nothing, you're nobody
And uh, your career sucks
What the f*ck
Slang Q's not G's
But I might chop sticks like Sensei
Every day just plugs and blocks
So I'm like Mutumbo Dikembe
I don't know bout we's and you's
Parlez-vous français Bae
Switched up my movements so I don't walk its more like swegway
Still duck if I run out of head way
Still f*cked if it's only just head bae
Every line still lit no dead day, CBR red tape no red K's
(No red K's bitch, you know what it is)
Had to lay it to rest, no cheese in the trap like Jerry
Went broke and spilled my sauce I still talk spicy, Peri Peri
Got Arsenal like Wenger from 14 on me like Thierry
I sing and rap and trap, I'm like some ghetto Anne Kennerley
Got Cuffs and Links like Beverly, but you knew that already
Lost the plot and got some cash, blew that shit on hoes and tellys
Hoes just P E nuts, want no love just bread no jelly
Just f*ck, then nut, then cut
Samurai ting with my machete
Still think bout sitting in cans, but I love when I band these bands
OT can't see my friends those Inter flights baby Milan
Touch paper can't shake hands, M's on M's like I got Stans
Still spin that verse like fans heated seat cause I can't stand
You bitch ass niggas man
Ay, TOS back in the building man
Lil freestyle, for yo bitch ass
Ahh shit, till next year man, God bless