Look
It can't be cuz I put in the work and the time and the effort to make sure I do it
It can't be cuz I'm writing so much that I rhyme when I'm talking to you I'm so fluent
It can't be when I'm taking control of the kicks and I hit it so much I abuse it
It can't be I don't have any choice when it come to my options I don't even think about losing
(Uh Uh Uh)
Nothing is funny the fuck are you laughing
My girl is so pretty that she could win pageants
And half of these rappers don't even have talent
Losing my footing and keeping my balance
I'm breaking the cycle and breaking my habits
I'm chasing perfection don't care about status
They told me to quit and they thinking they had us
Uh
Got a plaque for it
And a hunnid I keep on the dashboard
No other option I gotta go get it but if I don't work than it's back to the draft board
This shit is nasty, feel like I'm Rico
Metal Gear Solid I'm playing with cheat codes
Think she all that but this bitch ain't an idol she feeling like Doja but sing out of key though
Back on the road
In the back of the rolls
Think of doing a show and then keeping composed
Holding my own
When I'm hitting the flow
And then all my opponents are barely opposed
5% tint when I'm driving the whip
I don't know if you noticed no point if I look at em
I see 'em reading my verses and dodging the punches but if he not careful I'm throwing at hook at em
It can't be cuz I put in the work and the time and the effort to make sure I do it
It can't be cuz I'm writing so much that I rhyme when I'm talking to you I'm so fluent
It can't be when I'm taking control of the kicks and I hit it so much I abuse it
It can't be I don't have any choice when it come to my options I don't even think about losing
Can it be?
The gecko?
Yes it can
Said a motherfucker got a plan, like the Super Bowl how I'm filling the stands
Like I'm on my game 6, know the flame lit, with the ball in the palm of my hand
Honored to stand, in front of my momma, and show her the commas and numbers I ran
Look at my commas and digits, I'm flaunting my business, I'm posting the shit to the web
I got the people caught in it,
All of the spindles, they shoot from my wrist, where I bled
And every syllable spoken, the words that I wrote, I do it with class and respect
I treat the pen with the care and attention, like it was my baby, but dad went and left
Felt I neglected my prodigy, I took my awhile but, I started writing again
Look at me spitting the wittiest shit
Fill up a page with the mess in my head
Look at the scribbles, like baby utensil, decided to draw me a pic, and I said
That me and you on mo'fuckin pedestal?
Shit, atta boy, now let's rip it to shreds
We gotta do is apply some more pressure
And then maybe ink will go straight through the paper
If we press hard enough, shit, like regardless of ballpoint or gel, we gon' draw on them tables
I'm writing scriptures and scrolls with a feather and drawing on walls of the studio
Labels and artists ain't ever gon sign me, I act like a child, I write in Crayola
The fables
That I been hearing, I swear that they fake
A hare and a tortoise? A Gecko gon' win in that race
Catch you off guard when I say
That through the speakers, I see the look on your face
You scared of my spit like it's acid in tears
I'm caring for pencils, erasing the fear
Went from deadbeat to father of the year
Now I can't dead the beat, and I polish my ear
It can't be cuz I put in the work and the time and the effort to make sure I do it
It can't be cuz I'm writing so much that I rhyme when I'm talking to you I'm so fluent
It can't be when I'm taking control of the kicks and I hit it so much I abuse it
It can't be I don't have any choice when it come to my options I don't even think about losing