issey miyake
Open Room Records
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Me and twin geeked up, walk up in this bitch
We shoot, get low, fuck nigga, watch your lip
We got ARPs and .223's, so we finna spin
Don't call me gang, fuck nigga, you cannot get in
Call in reinforcements, yeah, we pushin' down your fuckin' block
Brodie throwin' five, so I throw ten, we sendin' shots a lot
Brr, brr
Get low, duck your top
I got new flows, unstoppable when I get cocky
Hop up on the beat, I'm like, who can even stop me
She said, what's that scent, lil' hoe, issey miyake
I don't want your hoe, yes I'm begging her to block me
Sippin' on this purple and you know what happens next
If you runnin' down, just know we aim above your neck
Bullets got em' spacing out they causin' Mass Effect
Two shots from a distance, I'm like, you can guess the rest
Twenty-four hours, yes, I'm flexin' in my sleep
I could rap forever, that's a immortal technique
Shoes at the door, you know this carpet is not cheap
Fuck up out that section, you don't got a VSP
Yes, I keep a stick, it makes up for my physique
F-F-Flexin' on these niggas, they say MJ got a problem
I don't really see it, but you know that I still solve em
I don't wanna hear your music, bro, turn down the volume
Keep a stick just like a Wizard, but we not from Harlem
2025, Open Room is next for stardom
I be on the court and I'm tellin' coach, don't start him
Yeah I'm from Copakistan at night it turns to Gotham
Yeah that boy he died, but I still shot four through his coffin
Yeah these people think I'm sick, but this za got me coughin'