My Flow Is Dope

My flow is dope That’s why I’ve got dough

My stash is an acid test Liquidity ratio

Money running cold Had your assets frozen

Pay me or let go Of yourself

Hold up!

Banks know My name, I’m Notorious damn I’m

Laborious when I

Enforce an extraction And force an attraction

Of cash to my balance Ration in my actions

And fashion a bastion To lash on the factions

Who askin for it

You ain’t rappin for shit

Not even worth a spit

From the intellectually rich

You a vasectomy to stitch

While you infected I’m sick

I’m slick real no magic I’m all dick skills no ass tricks

A doctor of cabbage pack gynecologists

A rack of tits – Like its good business, fire’d up

I’m tired, but my head’s wired

Up caffeine down think

My problems, wink

It away and wince prior To a fist in your face

Piss on the trace Of violence and graze

A maze with ablaze Of fire, take a hint

I admire transparence red in my knuckles

A liar with a limp the usual suspects chuckle

thus go higher on the list And finds a buyer

Of my flow to go boldly

up the skies towards the stars past the moon and buzzing mars

Like fast cars but faster Drifting like Caster

I’m a nice ghost in a bad host,

You don’t know the real me

You don’t need the real me, I know what I’m after

And Understanding is not required of a master.


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