Courtesy

Yo, where the other one at?

I like this one

Just let it go, Pre

ZO6 vet, grippin', feelin' almost there

LIstenin' to Bon Jovi, rollin', Livin' on a Prayer

Privy to the gossip that's been said about me constant

It's the life and times of Bumpy Johnson meets Nucky Thompson

I used to rap about death, now I'm only concerned to live

I value relationships still, I keep it competitive

Nowadays chances are that if you see me throw the match

It ain't to lose the fight, it's to walk away from a burnin' bridge

I'm from a family of alcoholics and coke addicts

Daddy taught me if the ass is so fat it's a fact

That if you with your ho, don't matter, it's still appropriate to scope at it

Livin' life with no balance, drivin' drunk on co-pilot

Drivin' till I total it

I'm tryin' to stay afloat, but I got nobody to throw a rope at it

The game is just a game of splits and politics with no ballet

All kinda clips with more malice then pushin'

If you profilin', there'll probably be more violence then lookin'

I'm so stylish, but I ain't talkin' eBay

No high fashion, either

If you catch me by the runway, it's the one that's for the PJ

This one is for my lyricist, courtesy of my DJ

I take control, they can't hold it, it's so nuts

We hustle hard and any hustle that you pick

I respect that

I done had a lotta **** say they wanna hurt me

Some have some weight and just end up at my mercy

Just show come courtesy

Hell yeah, ****, you know

**** still got it

Believe that shit

I got killers 'round the way, ready to move that work for me

**** wanna ride my wave, bitches wanna surfboard me

All I want is courtesy, who cares 'bout the radio

And you can take the cassette deck from off of your old boombox

And it wouldn't matter, it still squares on your radio

To keep your wealth, I learned to stay to yo' self

I call for Chart, tell 'em spray paint a mural in Watts

Of me spray paintin' a mural of miracle watts

Shout out to Michail, five thousand watts

I'm on that lean movement like I'm out here tryna box

Look, ****, this is a boss thing

Meaning you gettin' the lays dot to your offspring

I'm a lost being

Try to cross me without falling off, I'm afraid not

I'm afraid not like a drawstring

I'm preaching to the congregation like I'm Peter Popoff

If you can imagine, me hopin' up out of the cabin

Like I'm one of the Dukes of Hazzard, like fuck it, leave the top off

Like time for foreplay

That last line, that was before your time

Like Big Ben sittin' in Beyonce doorway

While I'm receivin' Four Seasons Norwegian top in Norway

Listenin' to rappers kick knowledge that they probably got from tourin'

These Michael Eric Dyson **** claimin' they cannot know

When the kind of drama that that bring

I'ma be the first established rapper to hop in that battle rap ring

Turn that to Gatling, my next album's gonna be so dark and so fly

I just see the package, it rapped in batwings

These Soul Train music award actors rock fake as wrestling

Dressed bottom to top in leather, lookin' like bacon and vaseline

How you lookin' like beef jerky?

Beefin' in every verse but never beefin' in person

Randy Savage, you wouldn't snap a Slim Jim

You wouldn't rip a wrappin' on Christmas in Santa's attic

With the hands of Eddie Scissors and you average

Put your motherfuckin' hands up

My job is to move the crowd, move the motherfuckin' crowd

Put your motherfuckin' hands up

I respect that

PRhyme