Grand Cabin ft. $ifu Lyrics

Uhhhh that's a shame to the commas (Damn shame, check, check, check) I'll never ever… ha, you already know bro

Unc be solving problems at bottom of a bottle

Momma from Third Ward, where the dope wallows

When it comes to rain, every drop I follow

When it comes to frames, I'm the paint looking sallow

Now I'm feeling sane, ain't the same as the model

Dirty clouds came, tonbe, was a problem

Always had a crave to be great since a toddler

Always had the pain in my face from the trauma

Always acting tame with a mane as I-

I don't crave fame, that's a shame to the commas

I don't date lames with the brain of a llama

Pace away from weight cuz I ain't no damn slave

Paid with a passion, my brains made of fractions

I don't need a lean tank, half clean, half baked

Half passed cuz they got a whiff of that lil old snake

I don't gotta say it, aye, most of y'all fake

But I rather spray it in your ears, make 'em ache

Shaving off the shame like a emo with a razor

Words like a blade, hari kari, self blame

Tell me what I choose, is it truth or is it youth?

Cooling in the booth, blue flames for my backing troops

Drooling when I stoop down to you to give a point of view

This is my crown, the rules must be new to you and dude with his head on loose

I'm the Shepard of this land and y'all grazing on my two big roots

Don't get duped by following the fool,

I don't pick or choose, split the rules like crackers poisoning the Native pools

Abrasive, invasive, you munch at our food

There's nuance to racist, that's facts, not the school

That's cap in your books, look mad at me, bruh?

My cabin ain't average, we masters at cooking

I'll never ever contribute to your-

What I say? My cabin ain't average, we masters at cooking

Risha on the beat, what you looking at (Coughing)

It's my turn

Put ya money in the sack I got some dreams that I'll never get back

Rolling woods, told Xi let's just kick raps

Rapping in a whole different dialogue than these niggas

Might even say off my voice it's gone earn me at 6 figures

Me and ya bitch was in ya room she was telling me sifu I never had bigger

On that day I decided on that I might really just be that nigga

We was writing rhymes just to past time

Caught up in my head trying not to end up on true crime

It was a major upset it was heavily contested that bitch ass is heavenly impressive

Told her sex me through the phone sorry if you don't get the message

I sent the wrong text but thank god she dyslexic

Ion believe in a god but this hoe is what we call a blessing

Open up ya books and let Mr. Fu teach you a lesson

Ion express my feelings through words I turn on a beat I start confessing

I dip in anything thats why they call me ranch dressing

I spit on blind kids and tell em it's raining, you can't match the one and only $!fu this shit take more than training

Let the last sip of juice be gone niggas gone get to blaming

I wanted to be in faze clan growing up but I was never really good at gaming