What do you know about this timey wimey flow?
Bro taught me how to rap, so I'm a pro from the get go.
Doctor said I got a cold cause my rhymes are ill.

AJ in the styrofoam cup, keep it Texas trill.

Vintage DeLorean sitting in my front lawn.

I don't need to do drugs to get high, bro, I abscond.
These shades from Louis, this cape from from Gucci.
Looking for a troll with a booty that's juicy.


Steezy, my rhymes breezy, yo John where you at?
Hit these kids with that windy thing, heir of air attack.

Cardiac, oh Bro's back, busting lips and setting $$# traps.
To my neck in smuppets surely causes a bleating relapse.


No session to spare, I spit these rhymes until I die.
Bars like bodies stacking on these beat, I do all the time.
Tick tock but no wrist watch,though I own the hour glass.

Rapping has got these girls to sweat and Jade to shake dat $$#.

Go and pop that Mott's top, pour up another glass.

I'm drinking till my gut bust and raking in all this cash.
Look cool but my swag mean, making mince meat out of these fiends.
Me and Bro get more bucks then girls and sweet sixteens.


Hail from cowboy hell, hustle Houston as well.
No one can pick up what I drop, it's too hot in every parallel.

Snoop Dogg in the background, wrapped around this sick hook.
You trying to stack up to a Strider that's a bad move there rook.


Naw, you can't see the game like me.
I vomit volcanic fire but my aura 23 degrees.
Fresh to death like Mr.Freeze, spit rounds like submachines.

These lines will have the competition praying down on both knees