Black Friday (A Tale Of 2 Citiez Remix)

**** hard like Rottweiler

Can you handle it? Can you handle it? Woo woo, woo woo

The whole industry been in shambles

Everybody fugazi, I’m just changing the channel

Kendrick Lamar, the people’s champion, I'm animal for analysts

Career damaging verses, meditating with candles lit

I like my raps extra prolific

Since freestyling on lunch tables and park benches

And I won’t mention my ten thousand hours in training

While juggling gang-banging, my balancing was tremendous

And now we look at the competition as quick submission

They tappin’ out before we even get a chance to miss ‘em

What this about, is it money or skill?

Maybe it’s both and I got large amounts of it, it’s real

You see my oath is very unbreakable, my style is never mistakable

I can see y’all incapable

To be the God emcees, you know me well

Ridiculous, venomous, hate in my heart, the sinister

Run for cover, my lineage prove itself

I’m rollin’ deep in that paper like two Adeles

Before scholars, I flowed tighter than virgin lips

We had to shake the game up and you're flying through turbulence

Everything is high stakes nowadays, that’s how it played nowadays

It’s like an 8-ball to the face nowadays

I'm laced nowadays, my gun is off the waist nowadays

It’s seven figures and retainer for the case nowadays, I'm talking

Hiiigher power, every other hour since Eddie Bauer

Since stash boxes and lead showers, breaking the padlock

And the dead coward dying a thousand deaths, entire lion

Surround itself with bears, watch it *****, you share a profit, ah!

This is what they want, I’m the one

This is vintage from nineteen-eighty-somethin'

I’m the son of the pioneer that got you near the sun

Play with him, ***** you better off voting for Donald Trump

I’m yelling Mr. Kanye West for president

He probably let me get some head inside the residence

I’m in the White House going all out

Bumping College Dropout, God-bless Americans

Nothing more influential than rap music

I merge jazz fusion with the trap music

I mix black soul with some rock and roll

They never box me in, I’m David Blaine-ing all you hoes

Oh yea, let’s go there, my DNA is DMT, I’m so rare

My Juvenile was wilder than the Nolia

A locomotive couldn’t track me down in my career

Runnin’ this **** with four pair, son of my *****, I might demolish

A ***** right in front ya, chico, what have you done here?

D-Bo, all of it one year, Mississippi to California

It gets annoying, ****** wanna deploy him

And ******* wanna adore him, but industry **** ain’t for him

Probably thinking it’s for him, only one me

Swallowed the key and kicking the door in, never leasing my foreign

Mr. Valevictorian studied the game before them

Listen to you with boredom, baby rappers, abort them

To the grave I deport them, corporations extort them

I’m snapping off my endorphins, I alien mighty morphin’

My radiance rather gorgeous, hundred bill to the doorman

Hundred mil in my fortune, they call me back in the morning

You're racing against the tortoise, pace myself it’s important

Lace myself with the wisdom my playerism enormous

So pay the man for performance, saucy all of my garments

Jimi Kendrix performing, this ******* studio haunted (Ah!)

I tell a ***** don’t sweat me (Don't sweat me)

I kill this whole ******’ beat if Cole let me (Please Cole)

Ib should’ve never sent the instrumental

Every time I start writing I get sentimental

This **** is just not fair

But why the **** should I care?

The story of your life here

Two young stars was born and y’all gon’ die here

Oh Lord, gotta be the yams

Billboard list need 2Pac, damn

But number 9 makes sure he lives on, yeah

Hoochie, coochie, pussies in a trance

Every day a celebration, but even the valley peaking me

Is not validation, ***** this TDE

And my doggies be salivating, salaries, better ratings

And casualties all around me, don’t make me do demonstrations

Whoa Murder my allegations and burning my finger traces

Adjourning my power patience and earning royalty payments

I’m sorry y’all not relating, this party is reservated

I kill this whole ************ beat if J. Cole say it

My ***** Ib chopped the instrumental, I gotta slay it

I gotta lay it, gotta show you ******* I’m not to play with

The ruckus had been my favorite, King Kunta the ******’ greatest

Whoa Burnin’ my leather- (Nah I’m just ******’ wit cha)