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  1. Vintage

Prod. by Cooarri

Lyrics

I'm on that old school, that Pete Rock
Copped plenty of Reeboks
Rocksteady and Bebop
Not letting the beat stop, wait a second
Matter fact you can take eleven
I'll be going just as hard with the same obsession
I be flowing through the bars just to make impressions
Saying what the fuck I want homie
I don't take directions
I don't need a fuckin editor and chief
Cuz I'm better with beats when I get to be a beast I
Got a bag of weed in my Levis
Meanwhile, y'all be getting lost on the Green Mile
You want a free feature
But you can't afford the cost of a freestyle
Please child, I'm a fuckin boss on the eastside
Drippin' wit it
Bitch I get it even when the streets dry
I got experience with more than rhymes
And serious recording time
Will leave you all delirious and mortified
I'm ripping the beat indiscriminately
Till they give it to me and I get em for free
I'll be spitting the heat till I get a disease
I don't even got no time to divide
All the rhymes that reside
In my mind so I try to decide what to write
And I try to revise what I'm like but I can't
Put it right in my hand I can take it to the bank
If you got a couple grand, you can add it to the tank
On some real shit
I don't bother with the fakes
But the world is full of them
And they be all up in your face
They be calling up your place
They be stalling up the pace
I just wanna get a break
Yo I'm coming from a city with codeine and dope fiends
No one ever sees cuz they throwing up smoke screens

Low key OD's on most weeks
Police smoke teens and go free
Show families no grief, it's
Just the way it is is what they say to me
Amazing we can take the things we're given
Like it's basically the truth without a quiz
Maybe ask a couple questions
See if it can pass a test n I don't know
I'm not an expert in a lab coat and a pressed shirt
I'm an MC and my pen's free so I'm giving the world my best work
Yeah
I know it's all or nothing yeah I can't afford to fail
I been locked up in the jail of life and working for the bail
I been searching for the sales
Working like a fuckin surgeon till the curtain gets unveiled
And they can look at me and see there's not a person that compares
Yeah, check it out
I'm an individual
Been miserable with syllables since middle school
But never was invisible to principals
Like a mystical creature that got a whiff of some ether
Mixed in a beaker turned in to an underachiever
Now I'm running a fever because I'm so hot
But I'm humbled to see ya, ok I'm so not
Brain locked and getting lost in pain drama and petty thoughts
Getting crushed like Betty Ross, everyone just sets me off
Let me take my necklace off I bet we solve
The problem and it gets resolved, expect to fall
Even if you sitting at the top
You can talk that bullshit but try to bring it to my block homie
I'm out