Artichoke Lyrics

Yuh

Yuh

Fwea, that Moroccan

I was a vegetable in class, but I'm glad I was always wrote

Cause in a battle bar for bar who ever test my art will choke

(That's food for thought)

Who could be the boss?

You know I'm swagged out when folks will tell you losing me is a loss

If you my dawg I trust my word with you, goes without being said again

A lot of you think you intelligent then go and tell a jit

The last person I met was more real to my face

Than the last person I'd expect to be fake

That semi tearing through opps, they really rest in graves

Out of all the rappers who flop, you'll never mention Fwea

No Massachusetts, but every city I step in I'm a boss in

Ain't get a penny from no jit, they brushed me off like they was flossing

I'm on Gacy vibes, I murder this jawn the way Wayne would

They so damn shook my pockets look the way my vein look

My dawg a life robber, he the type to get your face crooked

I should own an airline the way I get people's pape booked

Seen highs and see lows, so fuck you if you wasn't there

That pole will reach someone who say could bare it bitch I poke the bear

I ain't safe, like I open up a lock a lot

My dawg say my aim mean that it's death if he go pop an opp

Talk is cheap for you I'ma get trillions to speak

Don't smoke but hoes will pay a ticket just to dab me when I leave

The way I done fully shitted this and pissed up on this beat

People will pay me billions just to peep what I pee

Seen highs and see lows, but that won't take my soul away

I got more bars than all your favorite rappers in a throwaway

I'm lit up like a torch flame and this is me before the fame

Don't give an Indiana bout you, not a fuck and nor a damn

Pull up one more than three deep, entering the fourth dimension

Bro a country man he caught a Rico with his poor decision

I'm in angry jit, what the fuck I look like being timid?

And when I win dough the haters can't peep I'm even tinted

I love running through that pussy, I should marry thongs

Shamed me for my pain, Dom Pérignon

Y'all so plain I'm bored of y'all everywhere I go I carry yawns

She gon' suck me from the base of my balls, I'm Barry Bonds

Why is bro on his O'Neal vibes trying to catch a kill

My pal is tying up loose ends on my crime record that is real

What I stand for is real death never the answer

Some call it jokes California, I can never stand for it

Whoever think my art a joke, I turn yo ass to food

You got a bone to pick with me? My dawg go fetchin after you

I played em' by playing dumb, yeah I'm an actor too

A bday suit the oldest fit hoes rock it like the fashion new

I'll rock designer for the times they made fun of my fashion over and over again

I might just cop a feel on Raris like my name David I'm giving up 400 bands

I'm a robber with her spinal cord bitch Ima make her bend it

Listerine on everything I say if I said it I meant it

Uh

That Moroccan, Fwea uh (That Moroccan)

Baow (baow)

Yuh

Don't give an Indiana bout you, not a fuck and nor a damn