Everybody's Something

What's good good?

And what's good evil?

And what's good gangstas?

And what's good people?

And whys God's phone die every time that I call on Him?

If his son had a Twitter wonder if I would follow him

Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon

Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum

Studious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him

Pics of they genitalia tallied up ten of em

I slurped too many pain-kills, downing em off a lot

I got a lot off days but it ain't often that I'm off the clock

Ya'know I mean?

I got the Chicago Blues

We invented rock before the Stones got through

We just aiming back cause the cops shot you

Buck buck bang bang, yelling "Fuck Fox News!"

Booyaka buckle up, mothafuck ops too

Ain't no knuckling up em young cause it just not cool

Nice to see you Father New Year

Middle finger Uncle Samuel

Shooting death with weighted dice

And hitting stains on birthday candles

I know somebody, somebody loves my ass

Cause they help me beat my demons ass

Everybody's somebody's everything

I know you right

Nobody's nothing

That's right

(3x)

Right? IGH

I used to tell hoes I was dark light or off white

But I'd fight if a nigga said that I talk white

And both my parents was black

But they saw it fit that I talk right

With my drawers hid but

My hard head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite

But gravity had me up in a submission hold

Like I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon toed

In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole

And two missing toes

But it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe

Nice to see you Father New Year

Middle finger Uncle Samuel

Shooting death with weighted dice

And hitting stains on birthday candles

I know somebody, somebody loves my ass

Cause they help me beat my demons ass

Like Cassius ducking the draft and now the fight is over

The type to love from a distance not the type that told her

Spent three days on the rap, trash it and type it over

With babies on the block under arms like fighting odors

Coppers and quotas

Hold ya head like 2Pac had taught

Obviously they are on a come up

With better chances tobogganing in the fucking summer

Concoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones

All odds against we tryna get lucky

Doper than Nucky

You're ending happy that's only a tuggy

Like Satan masturbating shit come hot

But y'all still love me ugh

How father time a deadbeat

Maybe I'm adopted

That'll explain why all of my shit been so timeless IGH