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Intelligent Meth (Instrumental)

Yeah, yeah

Hey yo, Hey yoIt's like I'm trapped inside a cage

I can't explain this type of rage

It's not a moment or a phase

But possibly the end of days

Watch as I stand up on the stage

Not as an artist but a slave

Deep inside my subconscious

My music keeping me sane

They say it's levels to the shit

I say it's levels to your brain

You can't acquire the higher

You'll always remain the same

Regardless of all the money

And bitches yanking your chain

What good is a private plane to a man who can't walk the plains

Hip-hop is now gen-pop, populated with lames

Attacking you with these frequencies

Meant to destroy your brain

I'm fitting to go supernova

Expose em to superflames

Soon as I pick these locks on these psychological chains

The answer is in the question

The question comes from the pain

And the pain is just electrical signals sent to my brain

But the brain is just a box where information remains

As I try to remain a soldier, the voice in my head explainsI'm still shadowboxing lungs and oxygen

This an icebreaker, no bubblegum was popping

Another hot concoction trick, ya might need amoxicillin

The kid's too sick, You're gonna need shots to kill em

My method is ill, Doc admit him

When I see you, ICU can get em

Your boy give em bars until the judge acquit him

The court can't convict him or find the gloves to fit him

That's OJ, I mean OK, I mean, I'm not kidding, no play

Jealous ones still envy, That's Jose

Peace to Cartagena, I flow hey

But I don't speak Spanish, yo no se

I'm a seasoned veteran, obey

Obtain a freestyle, it's cold pay

The old me, resort to my old ways

My old man was stuck in his old days

Still he wanna blaze like John but rapping ain't in his forteLook how we did it to ya

Y'all just don't get it do you?

Special deliver to ya

This is how we give it to you

Im'a get it to ya x4

What rapper spit it truer?

But they don't live it, do ya?

My shooter cock the Ruger

This is how we get it to you

Im'a get it to ya x4It was only the elite who could walk these streets

With jewels and not get stuck

Niggas didn't give a fuck

Real G's know I'm talking about

Taking what you making, stripping what you wearing

Caring about nothing

Gun barrel in your face, cold steel on your cheek

This is how we meet and greet

Enemy across the street

Leaning on his Rover jeeps

Smiling, showing all teeth

Seeing son in my hood, it ain't all sweet

And you haven't earned the respect

Of those who come, creep and take money

So you just food that niggas come eat

And they don't get no chain back

You might see em rocking that

Fuck you looking at? Problem needs solving

You see that big 357 thing revolving...revolvingYeah, you niggas ain't street

My money talks word of mouth

I figured you out

The life I live, you're not about

Price on your head, I'm taking cash advances

I'll take my chances, then deal with the circumstances

Livin' off the land like a land shark

I'm on the lamb like the gyro with the white sauce

Idle times a devil

Playground, make moves

Watch me kill your whole vibes, crush groove

Hands high, say hello to my little friend

Point the finger at the bad guy, it's me again

Who are they to criticize me?

I do it like a G

I'm a nigga from the mutha-fucking streets

Throw me in the fire, watch me bubble

I was built for the struggle, my knees never buckleLook how we did it to ya

Y'all just don't get it do you?

Special deliver to ya

This is how we give it to you

Im'a get it to ya x4

What rapper spit it truer?

But they don't live it, do ya?

My shooter cock the Ruger

This is how we get it to you

Im'a get it to ya x4

Songwriters

SMITH, CLIFFORD / BEY, EL-DIVINE AMIR / CHARLES, PATRICK E. / HAWKINS, DONTAE LAMONT / TURNER, ELGIN EVANDERPublished by

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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