Cobra Scale

My last name Mackie, bro
Switchblades, bell-bottoms and nappy 'fros
The sky scraper condos, went from ashy to classy, doe
Eating vegan, fresh food, cashews and pistachio
Overlooked the city, a nice view from my patio
Cleveland fitted hat with an Indian
Spring collection, a whole mad show
Straight from the fashion show
Bumping Stetsasonic, Frukwan, Prince Paul and Daddy O
Or Busta Rhymes, A Tribe Called Quest, what’s the scenario?
Loaded magazine mounted on top of the Calico
Bulletproof panelling built inside of the caddy
Dope pianos out the ghetto, move more keys than Casio
Harlem
Spitfire like King Koopa, Luigi Mario
Arithmetic lyricist harmonizing a nasty flow
Bandana, red Converse, sagging my khakis low
Banging like a West coast nigga, just drop an addy
Hood version of Bart Simpson, let the Maggie blow
Hating on me still I rise, Maya Angelou
Just like suns and like moons
With the certainty of tides
Just like hopes springing high
Still I’ll rise
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops
Weakened by my soulful cries?
But just like life, I’ll rise
My flow excels, the weak-minded thinker who will rebel
Street graduate of the ghetto Harvard, ain’t gone to Yale
All black frames with clear lenses, they’re all gazelles
Heavy rope chains with a red Kangol, I’m uncle L
Keep my daughter with me, we’re best friends; Oprah, Gayle
Batman and Robin, we’re bonded like we was posting bail
They promote the image of gangsters and impose it well
But you can smell a pussy a mile away if you know the smell
Everybody say they’re a demon
When you throw them shells, they start screaming for Jesus
None of them wanna go to hell
Like David to Goliath, I’ll drop a giant although I’m frail
Stories of the Bible, I studied David with no Chapelle
Never heard of Uber, I weigh my work on a broken scale
Only had a, I got dope to sell
Rolling loud, no car
When I roll a L, I lick the blood
Like I lick the envelope when I close the mail
Teach the young men to be stronger than us, mould them well
My masculinity is evolving and I don’t know Pharell
She get her nails all over just 'cause she broke a nail
Snakeskin boots, my lady covered in cobra scale
As if Cause I have gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard
You may shoot me with your words
You may cut me with your eyes
You may kill me with your hatefulness
But just like life, I’ll rise