I Personally Wouldn't Have Released John McCain Lyrics

Niggas 42 and tryna bang

It's time for jazz now

Young ins fucked you up cuz you can't hang

Oh what you mad now

I can't do no beef

I'm steady trippin bout dis cash cow

Tried to spin the block but we

Got lost and now we assed out

Black power fisted a cop's wife

The VVs on the bezel feel serrated like bread knife

The rifle got a Hubble

He can shoot from a mad height

But only if I'm losing in the one on a bad night

Stop tryna atone

We the type to give glass cannons a stone

Let it known

Doin dirt from the block

Straight to the phone

For the throne

Niggas know that that ruger sine qua non

If this my last time seeing ya eyes

I love you so, tell the folks

That I'm tired of thugging thru obituaries

Niggas fake mad

Know the death threats be temporary

Scary hours for rappers that

Let the labels do the talkin

That rebellion ain't comin from in the office, nigga

Genetically predisposed to snow

To fund the anti-communists

Wondering since a jit why the folks

Around me was somnolent

Had to remain cognizant, vigilant

Do my due diligence

When delivering dissonance to blissfulness

Witness the downfall and preclusion of mankind

Product of those experiments like Sol Bad-guy

So why, delay promise

We been the Jihadist

These niggas risking they life for

These crackers like Pocahontas

Been a overachiever

So I don't bang with the settlers

I'm dapping up with the rebels and

Reformed dope peddlers

Inshallah on top of the prison letters

Lookin at her illnesses and

Praying she get better

Damning the evanescence of solace

Damages from the penmanship set fire

To the plans that they plotted

Blood on my hands, I didn't have any options

Praise from the ones

That knew about my intentions

This is how they get us Hector

They convince us that there is no future

There's only an eternal now

Bad bitch lip locker, miraculous shit talker, clip stocker

Yeah we really in them streets like jaywalkers

Killers tote guns

Was never down with the fencing

Rob ya grave like you Smithy Werbenjagermenjensen

I ain't got to like a rapper

I'm Denzel in Fences

Asking me for favors

I'm hesitant just to lend it

Cause if a serpent get to hissing

What a inconvenience

Now I got to show a nigga I ain't with the tweeting

I put my shooters in my duos every nightfall

Soldiers of the righteous

I hate when all of my knights fall

I been ducking raindrops, I'm a sun child

Ever since I learned that my bloodline

Was done foul

Liquor and gun stores

Down to the fentanyl

They got them lasers pointed at the

Marginals like Sentinels

They don't wanna interview

Cause every time I step on the mic

I get the urge to tell these crackers what we finally do

Anglo anathema

Shooters that come from Attica, Africa

Giving crackers sciatica with the caliber

Always quick to press a mother fucker

Like The Graduate

Know they sending shots

But I don't trip cause they not accurate, nigga