bitch I’m on that new shit

emd trap movement

grab the record, screw it,

chop it up and call it music



metric units taught taught to students

who sought drugs as the solution

rolled for distribution, they prosecutin

don’t you know, this a revolution.



roman x, tens im dealin,

she the ex, how you feelin

professor X, straight up mutant.

slangin x, quad stacks for real and



i don’t give a fuck, just get my money doe,

leave you straight up in the cold

I be leanin stupid low

all alone.



rock ’em sock 'em trap bot,

word to my home block.

what up, shout out, ms bach

black cherry maybach.



stop, figured the bass gon drop

marathon, chasin the guwop.

straight to the top, while I’m burnin the crops

wild’in, screamin’ “I DONT GIVE A FAUK”



them rocks.

ill break em off and never come down

ridin ‘round with that thump sound.

doubt mobbin’ with the pack now.



thats clap gang, swim fam.

call me bacon this white boy ham.

joey bags with the tech like bam

fucked ya day up when our night began.



im an old world god appeaser

bring the heat, so they call me fever

no italiano, mafiasto

but still leanin, tower, pisa



jump on that shit like a feature

break the whole song, then i leave it

fake or lame, i say neither

doubt will rap ’til surpassing jesus.



rest in pieces, yo, i mean it

keenest cracker, spit the beast shit.

..but i aint even

break a sweat, cause i already seen this.



swisher sweet technology

mixed with a little greek mythology

but you can’t stop me, I’m hurcules

and i know one thing, you aint mercin’ me