Hunting Goats

Check, check, check

Just bars on this one

Yeah, yeah

Top-notch pen, top half of top ten

Godsend when I'm locked in, I drop gems, all diamonds

Like Paul Wall at the mall shining

I bring the art with me like '60s Paul Simon

They want us small-minded, fooled by false findings

Crabs in a barrel, falling off the wall, climbing

All grind and no joy, destroying our health, avoiding ourselves

The whole thing's annoying as hell

Everybody trying to buy the shiny toy on the shelves

They put our water into bottles that then poison the wells

It's all plastic, the raps is all classic

Big tunes, Jurassic tall, Tacko Fall massive

I tear it down and smash it all

Crash it like young Shaq with Orlando's basketball magic

Now I'm in uncle mode, laidback, comfortable

Y'all started months ago, I've been rocking since Lunchables

Running 'round London town, no wonder I run the show

Going off unprovoked, feeling wonderful, who's coming close?

Bow and arrow shots, hunting goats

Bow and arrow shots, hunting goats

Nowadays, mans don't know how to spit and fans don't know how to listen

Where you gonna without a vision?

Guess I go about it different, I don't know, I don't care, I'm a pro

Never putting on airs, always putting on a show

The ongoing saga of so-and-so bores me

Rappers need to tell a bigger story, 4D

Something soulful, something more deep

That resonates from the last rows to the floor seats

Still places to go in this art form

I been that dark horse storming through the barn doors

Opposite of hardcore, but every bar's a sharp sword

So if you're smart, you don't really wanna start war

Too fortified, too organized

Anyone who fronted is mortified

Not on Billboard, they still award the guy every sort of prize

Important rhymes, they borderline immortalize

Toni Morrison prose, Prince performance-wise

Sick with no symptoms so I kill 'em with no warning signs

Never recorded lies since Jordan was 45

The sort of vibes the connoisseurs prioritize

That's why the dude's getting stans in Uzbekistan

Iran to France, in every land collecting fans

Wrecking jams since Sam the Record Man

Till I'm making extra bands for my great grandkids' exit plans

Generational, the wealth's the reputation though

The appetite for the cash can get insatiable

I rap for those that don't run from the truth

In this fake world, Neo when I run to the booth

I'm the one, it's fun and it's loose

And the numbers ain't a problem once I'm done with the proof

Bow and arrow shots, hunting goats, yeah

Bow and arrow shots, hunting goats

Bow and arrow shots, hunting goats, yeah