Stimulated thoughts with that National Basketball Association crossover
Always boss over for a easy two
My paragraphs dip and move
I'm up there my hand can stretch and touch the moon
Bust her heart right on Lexington
My shop gives her messages
My vocals I pass them off to messengers
The American dream, like Heems
Word slide in abrupt in a breeze all through Queens
Woman can't wait in they tight jeans
Most rappers I pull em up like shirt sleeves
That's just me TOP, I'm Obi with the toppin
Burning rap like a turkey sausage
Who cares and who do and don't pay homage
On the floor that's them that's that vomit
Yeah they on the floor, most rappers are on the floor



Heems

Ayo, ya bars elementary like abbot
Mia Murokawa, 11:11 jacket
You can't see me I'm in the next tax bracket
I break ya nose with ya pickleball racket
She toppin me like Obi, make her come quickly
Gave her a rose and she gave me a hickey
She stay on point like her last name Brunson
Gave her my Hart at the emirates in London
Post up in the crib and you know we play the sims
I copped her Orange Julius, we watch above the rim
Traveled a 1000 miles, we sitting on the Q
We shop at Kiehls, she said she never heard of you
I'm in my Knicks bag, it's deep like Mary Poppins
My plate full with the seasoning and toppings
I'm sellin drugs to parents on a school street
Yo check me out I got a song with Kool Keith