Message from Home (feat. Polaco)

Let me tell y'all something I won't ever cry put my eye to onion You from the south side or north side bitch none yuh Came from the mud in the crevice of the dungeon Weaving and ducking; wheezing and huffing Reason why these keys jangle in public Django no chain; let it dangle hoe it's bustin' Gang deep a dozen. Gang, gang deep a dozen (ugh) I was wit' it when you wasn't Flip flopped from Ziplocs to Glad bag stuffin' I don't got a TikTok, no Mille for the wristwatch I'm generally pissed off. Bitch, it's Blacc Kristoff Hit 'em with the criss cross; dunk and rip the rim off Lookin' at the sideline; only seeing tens dawg 7:10 is tip off; seventh inning lids off Heard you talkin' big shit; severing yo' lips off And we pluck 'em like a guitar Pulling all the strings bitch you know what I mean Split the pie equal keep it even triple beam Even keeled got the type demeanor of a king (yeah) Nah, nah, nah, I can't come home right now You know I'm at the studio Like we're making—we're making hot fire Like it —it could be an hour, could be two hours Like I don't know like we're on a roll Nah, I can't do it, I can't do it This shit—this shit is too hot I don't like to lose; all I do is win So, I keep a broom and I keep a grin Hate to break the news, but I guess I'm CNN As far as I can call it, ain't no end to the trend It is what it is; you was what you was Ashes to ash, bitch; Dust to dust Put a Palm in the air; put a cloud in my lung My circle lookin' tighter than my finger and my thumb (uh) Plot twist! It's Blacc Kristoff in lockstep (uh) Three-headed monster lurkin' outta Loch Mich (uh) Toxic; look on 'em wit' contempt (uh) Step on 'em, make 'em wish I had a size tens Goddamn! I ain't choose the violence; it chose me I could never vibe wit' the police I can tell by your vibe that you phony You funny. You play games. Niggas think you Sony Niggas always talking like they got the answers Life's a Game Boy; looking for advancement Shit is always changing peep the circumstances Break the mold, stigma, and all the stanzas Got my hands up when I hit the dances Got my hands up when 12 get to prancin' Got my hands up, keep the flurries from landin' When they panic, I go panoramic Nintendo Switch my lenses. Mind my own business Say what, say what!? Yeah, it's all about the Benjamins Know what competition is? If they didn't mention you Then you ain't really seen; which means you ain't really in the view I been meaning to address the shit that's been on my to-do This moment felt opportune Blacc Kristoff is serious. Tear you limb-from-limb like Cerberus Then bury you out back, it's House Wednesday's bitch