"Sith" lyrics
The Lord gave me determination and grit
Don't beat around the bush, I prefer to say what it is (Yeah)
Perfect aim when I'm lurkin' and burner spray from the hip
Then forcefully choke 'em, like I learned the ways of the Sith
Termination abyss, vertebrae gettin' ripped
Record him while he screamin', I'll turn his pain to a hit (Woo)
I heard your little rap, if that's your version of a diss?
Then I'll be really out for blood, like the murder case of a Crip
Can't let a pussy be dictatin' my actions (Nah)
Shit is propane, I'm a lit flame to the gas with a sick brain, I'm an addict
It's all a joke 'til your rib cage gettin' cracked and I'm still cravin' the static
All up in your grill like a kid playin' in traffic
I'm rich, famous, and laughin', my crib claimed on my taxes (Hah)
This kid yappin', like Vin Jay was a manic
Just keep in your own lane, you bitch-made little has-been
Just let me know if it's a problem or it ain't (What?)
I know that I got commas in the bank, but I'll still sock you in the face
And that's me showin' obvious restraint
I'll lift the grip up and I ain't talkin' ollie in the state
You obsolete and fake, but gettin' cocky from the fame
So I'ma give you all my lyrics, let you copy 'em and paste
But still, you wouldn't top me in the ranks (Why?)
I swear the only buzz you gettin' now is from the oxy' and the 'caine
The prodigy remains, it's time to put your body in a grave
I'm sick of all the gossip and debates
Careers lookin' rocky as Dwayne, that's why you hollerin' my name
There ain't too many options that remain (Nah)
Man-to-man, stop that, I'm sad your fans want that
Keep sneak dissin', you can plan to grab contracts
All that slick talk will turn to hand-to-hand combat
9-1-1, get the ambulance on that, yeah, I reload and seek no truce
No need of a cheat code, delete foes, and leave no proof
Homie, I'm potent with the tunes, I'll leave him broken and abused
He said he'd never back down, so, let's provoke him 'til he do
Now, this the product of the formative scars
I manifested into blessings from me torchin' the bars
I was broke and now my net worth is orbitin' Mars
So, I don't rap like the renters do, the mortgages are
Homie, I was fourteen freestylin' on a blacktop
Never thought I'd make five milli' off a laptop
Your shit's a festival, I'm leavin' when the band stop
Metal on my body and it's not to keep the brand hot
Can't ignore the signs, homie, I was born to thrive
Four-door Porsches on resorts and I'll afford it fine
Gettin' bored of performin', it's sort of mortifyin'
To me makin' a fortune, every quarter is gettin' normalized
Swear the paper is a fatal pursuit
You either make a lane or make an excuse
That's why I'm lacin' the booth
And sonnin' rappers, like I'm raisin' the youth
I tell 'em, "Look in my direction, now you facin' the truth"
Yeah, they want me for the feature, I just gracefully decline
But really, y'all should take it as a sign (What?)
I hate to be the guy to let you know that you complacent and deprived
And never been the one displayin' greatness in his prime
I faithfully remind 'em of the traits that I define
That's authenticity and skill and they've been tastefully refined
You basic by design, it's painful to describe
I heard your whole fuckin' album
Not a statement I'd rewind, you little bitch
Don't beat around the bush, I prefer to say what it is (Yeah)
Perfect aim when I'm lurkin' and burner spray from the hip
Then forcefully choke 'em, like I learned the ways of the Sith
Termination abyss, vertebrae gettin' ripped
Record him while he screamin', I'll turn his pain to a hit (Woo)
I heard your little rap, if that's your version of a diss?
Then I'll be really out for blood, like the murder case of a Crip
Can't let a pussy be dictatin' my actions (Nah)
Shit is propane, I'm a lit flame to the gas with a sick brain, I'm an addict
It's all a joke 'til your rib cage gettin' cracked and I'm still cravin' the static
All up in your grill like a kid playin' in traffic
I'm rich, famous, and laughin', my crib claimed on my taxes (Hah)
This kid yappin', like Vin Jay was a manic
Just keep in your own lane, you bitch-made little has-been
Just let me know if it's a problem or it ain't (What?)
I know that I got commas in the bank, but I'll still sock you in the face
And that's me showin' obvious restraint
I'll lift the grip up and I ain't talkin' ollie in the state
You obsolete and fake, but gettin' cocky from the fame
So I'ma give you all my lyrics, let you copy 'em and paste
But still, you wouldn't top me in the ranks (Why?)
I swear the only buzz you gettin' now is from the oxy' and the 'caine
The prodigy remains, it's time to put your body in a grave
I'm sick of all the gossip and debates
Careers lookin' rocky as Dwayne, that's why you hollerin' my name
There ain't too many options that remain (Nah)
Man-to-man, stop that, I'm sad your fans want that
Keep sneak dissin', you can plan to grab contracts
All that slick talk will turn to hand-to-hand combat
9-1-1, get the ambulance on that, yeah, I reload and seek no truce
No need of a cheat code, delete foes, and leave no proof
Homie, I'm potent with the tunes, I'll leave him broken and abused
He said he'd never back down, so, let's provoke him 'til he do
Now, this the product of the formative scars
I manifested into blessings from me torchin' the bars
I was broke and now my net worth is orbitin' Mars
So, I don't rap like the renters do, the mortgages are
Homie, I was fourteen freestylin' on a blacktop
Never thought I'd make five milli' off a laptop
Your shit's a festival, I'm leavin' when the band stop
Metal on my body and it's not to keep the brand hot
Can't ignore the signs, homie, I was born to thrive
Four-door Porsches on resorts and I'll afford it fine
Gettin' bored of performin', it's sort of mortifyin'
To me makin' a fortune, every quarter is gettin' normalized
Swear the paper is a fatal pursuit
You either make a lane or make an excuse
That's why I'm lacin' the booth
And sonnin' rappers, like I'm raisin' the youth
I tell 'em, "Look in my direction, now you facin' the truth"
Yeah, they want me for the feature, I just gracefully decline
But really, y'all should take it as a sign (What?)
I hate to be the guy to let you know that you complacent and deprived
And never been the one displayin' greatness in his prime
I faithfully remind 'em of the traits that I define
That's authenticity and skill and they've been tastefully refined
You basic by design, it's painful to describe
I heard your whole fuckin' album
Not a statement I'd rewind, you little bitch
