"In The Pocket" lyrics
(feat. Logic)
Check, check, check
Yeah
Statik Selektah
You can turn my mic up
Yeah, you can it up some more so I can really hear
A little more
Ayo
King of the Hill bitch I'm Bobby Jill
People hate but I still
Write all the shit I feel
Like a game of 8 ball it's only one intention
2 face hustlers like 2 countries is in contention
Off the track like 3 tires missing suspension
For your eyes only like a pair of bifocals
But y'all don't feel me like a quad I'm going postal
5 seconds til I say something antisocial
5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Fuck people I hate em
Extroverted introverts that's paid to public speak
At minimum that's 6 figures I do 3 speeches a week
Made 7 figures in a day that's not all
I save the 8 for last I'm in the pocket like a 9 ball
Love to rhyme for y'all
First picked up the pen when I was 10
When my stepdaddy went to the pen
When I heard my first was at 11
Curfew was 12
Runnin' with shorties that's 13
My older brother 14
On the corner he servin' fiends
15 bullets sprayed in a driveby
His children run wide-eyed
Some get hit and when they do they fall
My lyricism go straight to your dome like it's an 8 ball
I stay with scratch but never in a pocket
My flow is always in the pocket
Statik
Yeah
Statik Selektah
You can turn my mic up
Yeah, you can it up some more so I can really hear
A little more
Ayo
King of the Hill bitch I'm Bobby Jill
People hate but I still
Write all the shit I feel
Like a game of 8 ball it's only one intention
2 face hustlers like 2 countries is in contention
Off the track like 3 tires missing suspension
For your eyes only like a pair of bifocals
But y'all don't feel me like a quad I'm going postal
5 seconds til I say something antisocial
5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Fuck people I hate em
Extroverted introverts that's paid to public speak
At minimum that's 6 figures I do 3 speeches a week
Made 7 figures in a day that's not all
I save the 8 for last I'm in the pocket like a 9 ball
Love to rhyme for y'all
First picked up the pen when I was 10
When my stepdaddy went to the pen
When I heard my first was at 11
Curfew was 12
Runnin' with shorties that's 13
My older brother 14
On the corner he servin' fiends
15 bullets sprayed in a driveby
His children run wide-eyed
Some get hit and when they do they fall
My lyricism go straight to your dome like it's an 8 ball
I stay with scratch but never in a pocket
My flow is always in the pocket
Statik
