Last King of Scotland

Watch your fucking mouth

You little bitch rapper

You chasing clout? Get disfigured when we pistol smack ya

We shipping bodies like the middle passage

We don't respect you little bastards

Brown nosing for a play, trynna get close to product

You dudes is lactose kid you rap most robotic

Might as well be artificial my bank card official

Catch a motherfucking stroke when I squeeze ya heart tissue

Part man part missile I ain't come to argue with you

Head case like a porn star bitch with momma issues

Get ya head checked my army is dead set

I'm dropping the best yet drama and death threat

Probably the best dressed, the flyest in fresh threads

Supplying you with the best nirvana and excess

I'm a change the whole game

And that's no brainer... trust me it's no thang

40 acres and a mule

Lasers in his shoes razors in my goose

Brazen with my moves these **** racist

Studio compounds housed inside of bigger basements

How he go from smart to making ignorant statements

The potential's limitless my predicaments sacred

Road trips in an S-Class lot of shit could have went left fast

But I'm still here, guess I took the correct path

Hit em with a death blast

Me and Clypto official and you can press that

Respect that

Bet that... no survivors found at the scene

It's massacre, the last of the Mohicans is seen

Bohemian dreams, generate that premium cream

Step on ya head break ya jaw right on that median beam

Idi Ameen, Forest Whitaker the king of Scotland

You been imposters, we put ya head inside of boxes

Pictures I paint Stick to ya inner conscious

Yo yo fuck that shit man

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