Ay, ay, mic check, one, two, ay, ay

Ay, ay, man, ay, turn the music up

Yeah, uh, (you hear the horns) yeah, Crooklyn,

They only gettin better, we only gettin better (Mick Jenkins)

So, yo, ay, man (not too much fighting)

The best rapper alive or not

Was laced by the greats

I just had to tie the knot (ay, It's a warning stupid)

Turn me up, turn me up, yo, yo

Metasota warned me they'd want a war

But actually they forfeiting

Like they wardrobe for half of the week

Still eating rappers like chicken quesadillas

With extra cheese and pico de gallo

Thinking they fire, but they easily mild

Check the score, you're just a tourist

You ain't really wild

I made a hundred thou' then freaked it like a black and mild

Made another hundred thou' and then I blew it

Like a, performance from Miles with a horn in his mouth I do it

I was born with this style It's unfortunate how

They put a pro-choice in question like abortion is now

Thou shalt not fuck with raw me

Or he face a thousand deaths from Mr. Herbert Anthony

Steven's IV full of potent dope

Not a Cuban cigar maker but I want all of the smoke

Yo, I said thou shalt not fuck with raw me

Or he face a thousand deaths From Mr. Herbert Anthony

Steven's IV full of potent dope

Not a Cuban cigar maker but I want all of the smoke (you know?)

Ayo, ayo, yo

Ayo, Paul, ay, ay, ay Roll me up one of them hot ones, man

With that, with that real fronto, man

Yeah, none of them, I don't know

None of them vegan joints, you feel me?

Yo, Crooklyn one of my favorite movies

Now me and Crooklyn be makin' movies

Spike, please do the right thing, don't sue me

Still fightin' the good fight, still fightin’ the good fight (you niggas, you niggas suck!)

Read the autobiography of Malcolm X as a Christian

Started questioning the reverend like “This nigga trippin'”

Yet and still, it's still a cross I'm carryin' my uncle a senior bishop

My god mom an apostle I'm Soulo, ho

The prophet, it's in my heritage

To church, you go to pray in it

Shit, the work is on the outside

Hip-hop songs are for all my brothers on the front line

If this resonate with you I'm invitin' you to come bond

With me till our multiplicity is big enough to blow em up with one bomb

Why you think we always in some bind?

Cause they don't want us to combine

Which is why, thou shalt not fuck with raw me

Or he face a thousand deaths from Mr. Herbert Anthony

Steven's IV full of poke and dope Not a Cuban cigar maker

But I want all of the smoke

Yo, I said thou shalt not fuck with raw me

Or he, face a thousand deaths from Mr. Herbert Anthony

Steven's IV full of poke and dope

Not a Cuban cigar maker But I want all of the smoke (But I want all of the smoke, But I want all of the smoke)