weight on my bars, pt. 5 - mazbou q lyrics
look
soft core, still a hard case
flow make ya brain shine and ya heart blaze
keep both eyes on me, star gaze
part 5 and i’m still throwin’ up the bar weight
son of the soil, they don’t wanna start shade
steady ready to get froggy but they larvae
cross me, and see all the lights like kanye
make myself clear like a selfie on a huawei
i rap avid for my melanin inhabitants
uncapped passion when i’m pennin’ on these canvases
an incel wanna cover me in bandages
they couldn’t count on it with an abacus
quick math
stay mean but never deal in averages
wish that i was stackin’ bread like my sandwiches
extract capital that’s handled by the managers
give back to africans who wranglin’ for scr*ppages
fist black and upright for my people
didn’t think i had to say that we is all equal
homies gettin’ chased outta town like a steeple
pray they make it out alive, brothers gettin’ lethal
situation evil
starbucks sally like “i knew they was uncivilised
check my box braids though
i got them at the illest price!”
big blind spots courtesy of ill*advice
history was written by the hands that tyrannized
every beat that i’m on, i obliterize
that’s obliterate and vaporize fused
yea i can customize any verb that i use
wax intellect on every verse that i do
smash every set before the final curtain i pull
average rappers i will batter like they fried food
they’ll be quite bruised
like they in the ring with thai dudes
i oop*
i do it for rejects and throwaways
tell all of my peeps not to stow away
cos folks keepin’ too much capital
tend to treat others like they is lowercase (woo!)
try to move in the holy ways
though at times i desire to throw a vase
at a wall in anger cos i get vexed when
artists make trash but they gettin’ cake (nah)
the floor commonplace, so i levitate (yes)
they sleepin’ on me while i leave magic in my wake
hear my peers sayin i even don’t how he make
his own bass lines and ‘em tight fat rhythms
they try do the same like they might match with him (nope!)
there ain’t no symmetry, i be real fact spittin’
busy makin’ hiphop while you makin’ fan fiction
yeah, i make the real black music
y’all make fan fiction
ha
yeah
let’s go
y’all know nothin’ bout this weight (y’all know about it?)
that i’m pushin up (push around)
i’m in there every second day
i don’t do it for the sway
nah
woo
y’all know nothin’ bout this weight (y’all know about it?)
that i’m pushin up (uh)
i’m in there every second day
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