Texty
This ain't legal on the street
This the custom loadout
I ain't focused on the talking
When it isn't so loud
That should translate when you
Can't shake a whole ounce
Side arm is too sharp
They gon' leave and hold counts
Head counts for who next out
Thread count got a fiber for
Every artist stuck they necks out
Mentally I checked out
But went and focused on my family
And it served me in this next route
You an extra on the set hold up
They strictly focused what they told us
Who own us
You looking piggish keep a quota
Look up then froze up
Bitch we next and the
Connection come from Arizona
Wait
Who is you and
What you thought you was saying
We speak the truth no regard
You got a problem, then state it
If the grind was 50/50
He would probably skate it
Because again, he's just a fan
Who'd sell his mom for a placement
'Cuz I'm focused on the masterpiece
It's over you when it's after me
Like a pic they try to capture
But can't caption me
Off the map and type to
Crash a camp casually
What's the word
They tried to pivot not your turn yet
All the sudden , out the blue
And they just turn to vets
You speaking action but just
Waiting on the verbs to set
But let you tell it
Yeah you sell but it's your First arrest
This shit is barely the prologues
I had to separate myself
To get my own thoughts
Same shit we laid before
this whole album even written
And they got it in they show vault
So don't speak to me about
How late the drop
I do what I want
I do what I feel
You envious cops
And bow down when you see 'em
Trevor Shores
O/B/O DistroKid