CARVE (disrespect)
“I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd.”_____ F** your money! Taggin’ backwalls, dusk ’til the dawn, Buddy got a suit now, drives a Maybach lawn. Used to sip 40s, now it’s Perrier snortin’, Talkin’ ‘bout “art” - he just auctioned distortion. Gold frame, fake pain, hypebeast applause, We knew the dude when he drew on bathroom stalls. Now he’s all “mystery” - Мan, that’s a trick. With a handler, a lawyer, and a brand new stick. Used to bomb trains with a laugh and a stutter, Now he pullin’ up clean like butter on butter. Quotes old Marx, lives like Musk, Still duckin’ the block - scared of street dust.______ Now he’s big drip, but he drip like tap, Same dude used to owe me wraps for caps. Told the press he “escaped the hood” Man, he skated when the loot looked good. We out here - same bricks, same codes, He out there - fake beef in bespoke clothes. Popped on Sotheby’s, now they throw confetti, But ask him who taught him chrome - he ain't ready._____ Yo, your world grayscale through that tinted glass, Bumpin' noise like it’s deep - that’s designer trash. We saw the string, bruh, balloon was staged, Whole act lookin’ like a spreadsheet rage. Puffin’ on doubt, paint fumes in the ride, He ghostin’ the curb, but can't hide pride. “Unfinished Sympathy” on repeat, bruh please - You masked in mystique, but you choke on the keys. We hear that beat - sounds too precise, Like rebellion built on auction price. Seen your doc on Prime, man, that's cute - But the block don’t stream, they just execute._____ We ain't mad, nah, we laugh and flame, He a “visionary” now? Bro, stay in your lane. Got a piece in a vault, with a buyer on call, But the streets say: you never mattered at all. Chill, dude - the street ain’t fooled by the fade, You print rebellion, then count what it made. Call it woke with a wire in your jacket’s seam, But you ain’t lost sleep since the Sotheby’s scheme. Chill beats on blast, yeah, he claimin' it's art, But we know who sketchin' while playin’ the charts. Said he from Bristol? - That’s a Teardrop lie, Whole act smell like merch in a gallery sky._____ Mild tone flex with a militant grip, But your wall speak soft when you ghostin’ the strip. Poppin’ off stencils like truths from the gutter, But real ones tag steel, no handler, no cover. You preach dust, but cruise like you holy, World grey, bro - just tinted in your Rollie. Crew said: “Maybe Banksy’s a band,” Nah, just noise with a million-dollar brand._____ They say the wall remembers all the names... But his got wiped when the cheddar came. From cans to cash, he took the leap - But soul don't sleep in a penthouse suite._____ "The streets say: you never mattered at all. "
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“I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd.”_____ F** your money! Taggin’ backwalls, dusk ’til the dawn, Buddy got a suit now, drives a Maybach lawn. Used to sip 40s, now it’s Perrier snortin’, Talkin’ ‘bout “art” - he just auctioned distortion. Gold frame, fake pain, hypebeast applause, We knew the dude when he drew on bathroom stalls. Now he’s all “mystery” - Мan, that’s a trick. With a handler, a lawyer, and a brand new stick. Used to bomb trains with a laugh and a stutter, Now he pullin’ up clean like butter on butter. Quotes old Marx, lives like Musk, Still duckin’ the block - scared of street dust.______ Now he’s big drip, but he drip like tap, Same dude used to owe me wraps for caps. Told the press he “escaped the hood” Man, he skated when the loot looked good. We out here - same bricks, same codes, He out there - fake beef in bespoke clothes. Popped on Sotheby’s, now they throw confetti, But ask him who taught him chrome - he ain't ready._____ Yo, your world grayscale through that tinted glass, Bumpin' noise like it’s deep - that’s designer trash. We saw the string, bruh, balloon was staged, Whole act lookin’ like a spreadsheet rage. Puffin’ on doubt, paint fumes in the ride, He ghostin’ the curb, but can't hide pride. “Unfinished Sympathy” on repeat, bruh please - You masked in mystique, but you choke on the keys. We hear that beat - sounds too precise, Like rebellion built on auction price. Seen your doc on Prime, man, that's cute - But the block don’t stream, they just execute._____ We ain't mad, nah, we laugh and flame, He a “visionary” now? Bro, stay in your lane. Got a piece in a vault, with a buyer on call, But the streets say: you never mattered at all. Chill, dude - the street ain’t fooled by the fade, You print rebellion, then count what it made. Call it woke with a wire in your jacket’s seam, But you ain’t lost sleep since the Sotheby’s scheme. Chill beats on blast, yeah, he claimin' it's art, But we know who sketchin' while playin’ the charts. Said he from Bristol? - That’s a Teardrop lie, Whole act smell like merch in a gallery sky._____ Mild tone flex with a militant grip, But your wall speak soft when you ghostin’ the strip. Poppin’ off stencils like truths from the gutter, But real ones tag steel, no handler, no cover. You preach dust, but cruise like you holy, World grey, bro - just tinted in your Rollie. Crew said: “Maybe Banksy’s a band,” Nah, just noise with a million-dollar brand._____ They say the wall remembers all the names... But his got wiped when the cheddar came. From cans to cash, he took the leap - But soul don't sleep in a penthouse suite._____ "The streets say: you never mattered at all. "
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