I'm just smoking my **** &
(spitting facts2)..*****..

Aye..(Smoking **** & spitting facts2..)
/I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)../2
Smoking **** & spitting facts..
/Smoking ****3
&
Spitting Facts3
I stay (smoking **** 2) & spitting facts
/2..
Spitting facts..
That's what I stay doing man,Yeah Aye....just
(Smoking **** & Spitting Facts2)..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2)....& smoking **** up..Yeah man

The real is back , we been here, we never left, we just evolve man, evolve yeah to bring death to all the fake rappers, Yeah *****, I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2)..Ayo, I'm on my gangsta ****, Ayo I need me a platinum grill, what up DJ Drama. We need to collab, & do a mixtape real quick..,Aye I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts..,2)..Aye I don't want no drama or any problems homie, I just want to get my cheddar, I roll alot of marijuana Yeah so what man, but I also tell the people what's real Yeah man..

I'm bout to get so many **** bands, so much that I gotta throw some to the fam, Aye.****, I might throw some  to the fans,..Aye man, I'm bout to cause so many problems ***** like Ol ***** *******,Aye..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts3)..Yeah man..,my *****, turn on the fan, its so much **** smoke up in the air that I'm starting to lose breath, Yeah I smoke awesome,.. I smoke on that dope, that choke,Yeah ***** that potent..while I'm rhyming to improve society not impress it..
Yeah I'm  smoking **** & spitting game to the  youth man..Let's get it..Aye..


Aye..(Smoking **** & spitting facts2..)
/I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)../2
Smoking **** & spitting facts..
/Smoking ****3
&
Spitting Facts3
I stay (smoking **** 2) & spitting facts
/2..
Spitting facts..
That's what I stay doing man,Yeah Aye....just
(Smoking **** & Spitting Facts2)..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..(Spitting facts2) & smoking **** up....Yeah man

Mufuck a opinion, when all I  rap about is the truth my *****,..I be spitting facts, so Talk yo **** be a critic man, Imma be a hustling young *****, Yeah a hard worker, a go getta, a goal digger, A dream chaser..Yeah,

I be spitting facts while these other rappers be spooning each other..***** and
Gomorrah type **** ..they fooling the people, but yall dumb ***** don't wanna listen to what's real,..so be it..Imma still rhyme  this same way..I know I can Spark the mind up of a future revolutionary leader mane..Yeah....Aye
I'm
(Smoking **** & spitting facts.. Spitting facts, Aye3)

I'm the best MC in Atlanta since Outcast,.. Yeah the biggest fish, so if the industry trys to hook me, Imma drown their ship..I'm a Outcast of this world no fallen angel..Im my favoritest artist , Young Ston he be going so **** hard, Yo he be (spitting facts2)..Aye, I'm smoking on a doop, 2 in 1 dawg, King size cone, while I'm writing scriptures..Aye..Yeah..Uhh

(I'm smoking **** & spitting facts2)
Smoking ****3
&
Spitting Facts3

Uhh,..I stay (smoking **** & spitting facts2)..
Yeah (spitting facts2)
I'm just smoking my **** &
(spitting facts*2)..*****

I practiced my sassing in the bathroom mirror
in all seriousness until a grin and a giggle escaped in spurts.
Watching unfiltered laughter chase after
the string of bad words exiting my ****** mouth.
Lethal darts trailed by curls of silk ribbon.

Insulting my reflection wasn't nearly as satisfying as racing around on my bike
letting filthy words fly into wind that tangled my hair.
As far as I was concerned there were too many things to curse at
outside, where I belonged.
Less spankings, more freedom.

It's fair to say I was an active *******,
never waiting around for reactions.

This was my first time trying on the four letter word sweater.
I certainly didn't know how to wear it. Felt funny,
the way your stomach feels when it drops.
I liked this swearing business.
I liked it a lot.

My days were rich with aimless curses
tasting of cotton candy and I fancied myself quite the sass master.
Telling chattering squirrels that they were "stupid *****"
as they spryly leapt limb to limb.  I was filled to the brim with
pleasure found in profanity.
I rode on towards the frosty haired couple driving my way.
I considered ditching the bike to run laps around the snail paced Pinto
while chanting all of my favoritest swears.
But they were "old *****" so I left them to that.

I continued to grace cats, curbs, and cars with cross words,
smiling all the while.
It felt good
Real good.

I told off every ****** thing on my block
several times a day.
My seat melded to heinous purple bike's.
Handle bar tassels whipping my wrists, shaming me.
Beads on my spokes telling me they were sick
with the click and clack of my wheels turning, covering every inch
of that dead end street.

One day I rode swiftly down a retired grassy path behind my little house
towards the majestic tree that had cradled me in its branches many times.
It's massive leaves had raised the hair on my slender arms
as I hung with my crown
upside down, legs halved over steady limbs.

It had met my mother as well.
Her gentle voice coaxing me from its arms for supper,
sitting pretty on our back porch,
petting our fat grey cat and pondering things beyond the tree and I
in the early evening glow.
Upon my approach I can only assume that the tree was pleased to see me
despite my new found nastiness.
Wise enough to know that it wasn't a "dumb *******"
and that it wasn't going to "go to hell"

and neither was I.

So it moved from an ancient position and proceeded
to lace its twiggy paws into my hair,
yanking me and my deep seated smugness
promptly off the old bike.
Contrary to my prior endeavors mastering the casual cuss,
I opened my mouth finding curses replaced with crying
for my mother, who couldn't hear me,
resting 40 miles away through 6 feet of still soft soil.

Rooted in the same dirt, both my mother and the tree.
Silently vowing to love me well. Keeping each other company
in sediment whispers, echoing.

There once was a man from Montana
Whose favoritest butter was canna:
     He'd spread it on hotcakes
     (Which made of them potcakes),
Then go play a sloppy piana.