Knock It Smooth Off Flow
“Rap Fame (Final Cut)” What’s up, Rap Fame — home of the meme rap game, hashtag bars — all trash, y’all lames all the same. Lackluster rappers — so sad, no flame, too many wannabes, no heart, no name. Stop twistin’ them fingers up before a real thug see, you cappin’ online — that’s motherfucking disgustin’ to me. Your profile weak sauce — not worth discussin’, you see, step in the booth, I’ll body you — no repercussion, it’ll be. Hear a nigga talk slick — knock him off, like, “knock it off.” Sleepin’ on me? I don’t play that — no Diddy, but you can keep noddin’ off. I press on heavy like a juggernaut — like Puffy, fuck you thought? Bars crack skulls like asphalt — oh, that’s my fault. I pull your hoe card, call your bluff, bitch; talk tough online, but that act ain’t enough, shit. End up in a spot where the odds ain’t right, you won’t survive that, right? — not tonight. You don’t want beef? Then don’t hype me. I’m Crawford with the pen — don’t try me. My passport marked up like L.A. graffiti, I’m airborne — my life different, you won’t see me. I’m glidin’, diamonds glistenin’ and shinin’, Boeing jet lift-off — now I’m cloud surfin’, somewhere in the wild blue yonder, internet still crackin’. Bad-ass bitch next to me, whisperin’, “Go fonder.” She tryna join the Mile High Club — I got her. Rubber on, high as hell off the OG fire, hit her with the Any-Pakk shots, got her geekin’ like Mirah.
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“Rap Fame (Final Cut)” What’s up, Rap Fame — home of the meme rap game, hashtag bars — all trash, y’all lames all the same. Lackluster rappers — so sad, no flame, too many wannabes, no heart, no name. Stop twistin’ them fingers up before a real thug see, you cappin’ online — that’s motherfucking disgustin’ to me. Your profile weak sauce — not worth discussin’, you see, step in the booth, I’ll body you — no repercussion, it’ll be. Hear a nigga talk slick — knock him off, like, “knock it off.” Sleepin’ on me? I don’t play that — no Diddy, but you can keep noddin’ off. I press on heavy like a juggernaut — like Puffy, fuck you thought? Bars crack skulls like asphalt — oh, that’s my fault. I pull your hoe card, call your bluff, bitch; talk tough online, but that act ain’t enough, shit. End up in a spot where the odds ain’t right, you won’t survive that, right? — not tonight. You don’t want beef? Then don’t hype me. I’m Crawford with the pen — don’t try me. My passport marked up like L.A. graffiti, I’m airborne — my life different, you won’t see me. I’m glidin’, diamonds glistenin’ and shinin’, Boeing jet lift-off — now I’m cloud surfin’, somewhere in the wild blue yonder, internet still crackin’. Bad-ass bitch next to me, whisperin’, “Go fonder.” She tryna join the Mile High Club — I got her. Rubber on, high as hell off the OG fire, hit her with the Any-Pakk shots, got her geekin’ like Mirah.
Respect 🤜🤛
Yo wassup hit me back rq , I got some for you, no bs💯