09 Folarin lyrics

[Verse]
Folarin, I still demolished a starvin' artist (Woo)
Go to the jeweler in June leave in December prolly
I chase profit you say my name they change topics
So, don't start if you can't back up like Blaine Gabbert (Woah)
Don't hate rap I just hate rappers that like perpin' (What)
Real ice on fake n*ggas or vice versa
Paranoia is real for me they like lurkin'
So every party we real heavy with light searchin'
Cloud surfing, she on the cloud with me
You still in y'all feelings, I'm in the style section
A n*ggas style somethin' they can never grasp
Every beat I smash like I'm Ike, snake, cloud or Kirby
They not observin' they try ignore me they try murk me
Try block what I've done and it's somehow workin'
I should come back with a gun before they try to hurt me
Had that b*tch ringin' so much I retire his jersey
I'm Bill Russell 'til the shift's over
And when its final I still got a chip on my sh—
You know what? that's a chip on my shoulder (What?)
Only switch up on n*ggas with nintendo controllas
Gotta switch the flow up like Rick Flair got a million rollies
These n*ggas scared for four figures they breakin' all your legs (Woo)
Love, loyalty, I love love and loyalty
Drop a bag on little things like corner store employees
See I always had the passion to pass n*ggas before me
But I'm always in the shadow of average n*ggas with more funding
Yeah, awards season see, no one love me
No more friends, no more fans, no one's more lonely
I be playin' solo, I don't know nothing
f*ck the game, just the bands like it's homecoming
That's how I'm coming that Cole sh*t got me so hungry
Boy I'm so stubborn Abloh can't make me call *beep*
Never mind what I was about to say
Covered Complex they cannot f*ck with me musically
I'ma hit this Henessey I ain't cool with this industry (Uh)
I don't call n*ggas opps they a opportunity for a reef (Sheesh)
My 16 require white sheets
Quiet churches, a choir service when I speak
Y'all n*ggas should stop thinking they near me
Fathered n*ggas I stop seeing I dead beats
Raw poetry my pen full of kerosene
Mic full of that lighter fluid and mind you this light to me (Uh)
Nobody noticing but they all aware of me (Uh)
I'm so prepared to leave I got this beat and left it two week (Uh)
My n*gga too weak, yeah, n*gga too weak, too weak
We was born good enough we just wanna be great, yeah