B SIDE III: prayer (talking to Whitman) Lyrics

Look

This that champion rap, fuck a Tiktok trend

While they busy clickin I'm busy winnin

I deal in somedays, Cuban chains, and pretty women

They ask me how I did it but I smile and say"I only spoke to Whitman from the grave" he said"Don't picture someday, just live it now instead; all those pictures from your head? Speak 'em loud"

The truth is leakin through the roof on my side of town, man yep

So then this song is the bucket, I'm gatherin' the love up, hope it comes across as honest

I can't do nothin but me, I'm savin coffee can cash and manifesting my legacy

And my jewelry ain't to showboat; it's a reminder of the world on my shoulders

Carrying the weight so that the Devils got no place between my ears eyes lips or the rest of my face

Great things come to people who wait and who aren't afraid just to go to war for the sake of eventual greatness

I keep a gun tucked behind every word that I'm sayin

Can't fake shit, so I gotta stay dangerous

Fuck man, I guess I got a taste for the finer things

Gold trimming on my plates and diamonds in my pinky rings

Dressed to the nines, ruby rose gold cuff links, my girl is never cold cloaked in fur coat made of mink

Or maybe Leopard print; paid so and so to sew her name with elegant stiches into the front left lapel

I did it all just from talkin to Whitman

Now she an elegant missus

Now she an elegant missus

Man listen

The roof won't leak when she's laying with me

Won't be no guns sprayin outside on my street

She says"Nice baby really made this all off a dream, just from coffee can cash savin, prayin in the poetry"

Amen