Courtesy - PRhyme

Yo, where the other one at?

I like this one

Just let it go, Preem

Z06 'vette, gripping feeling almost there

Listening to Bon Jovi, rolling 'Living on a Prayer'

Privy to the gossip, that’s what’s said about me constant

It’s the life and times of Bumpy Johnson meets Nucky Thompson

I used to rap about death, now I’m only concerned to live

I value relationships, still I keep it competitive

Nowadays chances are that if you see me throw the match

It ain’t to lose the fight, it’s to walk away from a burning bridge

I’m from a family of alcoholics and coke addicts

Daddy taught me if the ass is so fat it’s a fact

That if you with your ho

Don’t matter it’s still appropriate to scope at it

Living life with no balance, driving drunk on co-pilot

Driving 'till I total it

I’m trying to stay afloat, but I got nobody to throw a rope at it

The game is just a game of splits and politics with no ballot

All kind of clips with mo' malice than Pusha

If you profiling, it’s probably be more violence than looking

I’m so stylish, but I ain’t talking eBay, no high end fashion either

If you catch me by the runway it’s the one that’s for the PJ

(I can’t control it, can’t hold it, it’s so nuts)

(Hustle hard in any hustle that you pick)

(I respect that)

I done had a lot of niggas say they wanna hurt me

Somehow, some way they just end up at my mercy

Just show some courtesy

(Hell yeah, nigga you know, niggas still got it)

(Believe that shit)

I got killers 'round the way ready to move that work for me

Niggas wanna ride my wave, bitches wanna surfboard me

All I want is courtesy, who cares about the radio?

And you can take the cassette deck from off your old boombox

And it wouldn’t matter

It still squares on your radio

To keep your wealth

I learned to stay to yo — self

I call for ___?, tell 'em spray paint a mural in Watts

Of me spray painting a mural of Miracle Watts

Shoutout to Michael 5000 Watts

I’m on that lean movement like I’m out here tryna box

Look, nigga, this is a boss thing, uh

Meaning you getting the laze dot to your offspring

I’m a lost being, uh

Try to cross me without falling off, I’m afraid not

I’m a frayed knot like a draw string

I’m preaching to the congregation like I’m Peter Popoff

If you can imagine

Me hopping up out of the cabin like I’m one of the dukes of hazard

Like fuck it, leave the top off like time for foreplay

That last line that was before ya time

Like Big Ben sitting in Beyoncé doorway

While I’m receiving Four Seasons, Norwegian top in Norway

Listening to rappers kick knowledge

That they probably got from Torae

These Michael Eric Dyson niggas claiming they king

Not knowing the kind of drama that that bring

I’mma be the first established rapper to hop in that

Battle rap ring Turn that to gatling

My next album gon' be so dark and so fly

I should CD package it wrapped in batwings

These Soultrain music awards actors rock fake as wrestling

Dressed bottom to top in leather looking like bacon in Vaseline

How you looking like beef jerky, beefing in every verse

But never beefing in person?

Randy Savage

You wouldn’t snap a slim Jim

You wouldn’t rip a wrapping on Christmas in Santa’s attic

With the hands of Eddie Scissors, ain’t you average?

Put your motherfucking hands up

My job is to move the crowd, move the motherfucking crowd

Put your motherfucking hands up

(DJ Wonder, ya heard?

DJ Wonder, ya heard?)

(I respect that)