[Dom Kennedy]

I fuck tens, nines, maybe even eights
I got ‘em all spread like six and seven states
Do a couple shows it’s like six or seven dates
What she did on our chat
I’ll make her do it to my face
That murder music on my waist (pah)
Somebody hit the drum and let these n***as feel the bass like

Don’t worry, I’m back

Like homeboy from the [?]
So every time your boys in the zone, n***as duck
I killed San Diego
Came home, n***as front
So this time Imma go an [?] n***as for their lunch
Shit, I help n***as on the [?]
Derek Fisher shit, I help n***as in a clutch
Everything I drop
You let these n***as in the front
But me and Cardi A. gon’ X these n***as in a month
Shit, we smacking n***as and they friends
Where the money at
Don’t make me ask you more than once, muthafuka
Yeah, I kept it thorough, n***a

Since Bruce Smith had kicks
I was strapped
No similes, just memories
Face the mirror, youngin'
If you rap
You gotta talk facts
Not just who you pretend to be
I remember we, would write raps
Not thinking ‘bout this industry (nah)
Just for the energy
But now blogs, YouTube, World Star
Is like the trinity
N***a, that shit be offending me
Critics is like friends to me
Everybody feel free and pick up a muthafukin’ pen with me
Dom is better than I’ll begin to be
This gon’ be the last time you don’t mention me, n***a