Pockets

One half aquemini
Fuck the status quo I'm setting the standards high
I battle a bottle of moe
Till I'm feeling forgetful of the fucking alamo
My peers constricting
Take a look at how the rattle goes
Ain't in the business of dilly dally
I tally children dropping in silicon valley
I keep the pencil holstered
I gotta focus
I grind your favorite rapper into Folger's
Thirty kilo bridge the pressure never fold us
I put the stress in what I'm flowing
I spot a lot of bad bitches dresses never showing
Quality check
If you looking for the best I know it
Faulty suns sparring with a star
Run yo fucking jewels
You in the market with a crimson mark
My gold ambitions love to glisten next to silver hearts
Five years blacksmithing this iron
I'm making steel bars
When you fucking start?
Smith and Wesson to you temple a novice never hard
Truthfully I want the youthful to stoop to me
Top of the shelf brew
You got industrial lyrics there's dust on yo breath fool

You think you hit the king the pawns fall in line
I ain't a rookie son I seen this all the time
They try to book me for my rhymes
This my solemn oath
My flow explode
Hoes soon to overdose on nodoze
You ain't sleeping on me bozos
You talking tough
But when the walkings rough
You scoff and puff
You baby bitches cute
Soft as fuck
Hunting for the cherries outta luck
Eye popping leaving empty sockets

I got the flow that's got you reaching for you pockets
Stopping time like its Wallace and Gromit
Flow sick
Hold your mouth
Hold your doubts
Getting ready for the Heimlich