Gifted

I’m known for running my mouth
I will not be accountable for what comes out, uh
I dunno, I might have said it
I was kinda gone and light-headed
And my jacket kinda fresh, bright red
And as usual, my pants tight-threaded
It seem like everybody dress tight now
And I just want my credit
Don’t get it, twisted, or dreaded
I am the king and will not be headed
To the morgue no time soon, brethren
Being broke made my head hurt
So I need the bread or an Excedrin
That’ll only get my engine revving
While y’all on 10, I’m on 11
I’mma make the news, be on at 7
Matter fact, I’m on this very second
I’m in first and y’all in second
And this verse only add to the freshness
Call to the club, tell them add to the guest list
What you think? Way more bitches?
I can never be too big for my britches
Y’all motherfuckers know who this is
I’m gifted
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas
I’m armed with pens, I’ve got my rhymes
Whatever comes, I write it down
So knock me out and shoot me down
With mics in hand, we’ll stand against the test of time
You don’t know my mind
Like I’ve said a thousand times
I gotta stay ahead
Know what I’m fighting for
I’ll leave you to your talk
Never seen my kind before
And you’re all so thick-headed
Follow and I know I let it
Part of me won’t let me quit
Won’t let me just not say shit
So much is there to be bored with
Can’t be still, I can’t afford it
Try to hold it in, but it makes me sick
So I spit it up, say to hell with it
I dream it and I build it tall
Make a way for when you fall
I’m armed with pens, I’ve got my rhymes
Whatever comes, I write it down
So knock me out and shoot me down
With mics in hand, we’ll stand against the test of time
I’m armed with pens, I’ve got my rhymes
Whatever comes, I write it down
So knock me out and shoot me down
With mics in hand, we’ll stand against the
I’m armed with pens, I’ve got my rhymes
Whatever comes, I write it down
So knock me out and shoot me down
With mics in hand, we’ll stand against the test of time