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Songs | Albums | Album Arts![](/images/pixblue.gif)
Lyricist: Christon Gray
Lyrics:
Christon Gray - Connor McDees
Swear I suppose, there's nothing left for me in here to expose Ain't an accolade alive that I ain't claim on my own I been crowned since forever, been in here with the stones June bug with the plug, how I weight out the goal It's nothing new, almost to the point where I be bashful Double entendres are wondering what the mass do Double high, caught em and wonder if that'll catch you It's summersault slaughter so the flow is only natural Like no shots to it, more so in sense But I'm less about that, and more so bout a Benz I'm more so bout a win, and more so bout the end Being more than we can count, moreover contend Talking Russell in the huddle for a W Instead of serenading the parade, but not enough for attempts Know I may hear the beat, like the end of the speech Like the only protocol of what winning should be is right here
They gave Langston Hughes a pen, Coltrane a saxophone Gave me this mic but they ain't give me no chaperones Just me, just the ghost and the alphabet Nine years old watching Spike Lee's 'Malcolm X' Yeah, I'm on some different type of energy Whether hot or cold better save them extremities Man, the jazz got you running like Floyd If it's money in the made, then the summer got a joint I ain't running for the coin man I'm tryna keep my promise Cause if I keep it G I'm selling honesty as product And it's piracy, all this airing out keep messing up my privacy Now I'm writing rhymes on papyrus leaves It's hometown hero, not a hero in my own town Got my own sound, I experiment with Mo-Town Yeah, that's the offseason You fish outta water and we coming out to season
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