Pound Cake Freestyle

Verse 1: The way Drizzy killed it Had to try my hand The way that nigga be rappin I bet he understand The way that ASHES be rappin Building rapport With those who use to ignore When you go from bench player To starter and leading scorer Nearly everything change He said nothing was the same I ain’t know it til it came I ain’t know it ti l it rained But When you raised Seattle And your cage doesn’t rattle You ain’t phased by the pain It’s a pity In my city Narcoleptic at the wheel At the helm It’s no secret Still I love from where I dwell ...Shout out to my peoples locked in a cell On the yard Lady guards that love em sneakin em cells It’s word to DS So you know I stay fresh Give em hell on these verses So a nigga stay blessed… But lately all my days stressed See it rains when it pours in the Pac Northwest ...I was nine when this started Took a nigga 20 years but my songs finally charted Yeah, I swear shit just started clicking dog You know it’s real when you are who you think you are Verse 2: Look, my only goal rappin was to be heard But when I first started niggas focused more on the words And now it’s all different... I used to walk around with a boom box Phonetic as my right hand I loved them living room talks About what we would be Where would see Where we could go Me and him in the basement Just beats and the flow I know he probably thinking now Like damn what could have happened If he stuck with it though Shit’s real Ask Devy Left a nigga heart heavy But you can’t help a nigga if a nigga ain’t ready Got me worried bout Cam That’s my muthafuckin man But if winning ain’t inspiring Than what muthafuckin can? ...Who knew it’d be like this Text message from my mama Like I need that shit We pretend there’s no issues Both afraid to blow the whistle Same lines every time Read in between that shit Same lines every time Read in between that shit... Same lines every time Read in between that shit Whole situation ugly In my quest to make it lovely Did some things I’m not proud of Now my mama won’t hug me… ...Now my mama won’t hug me… I’m the same little kid splashing puddles on my huffy ...say my mama won’t hug me… I’m the same little kid splashing puddles on my huffy These days every night is mad real We trying to make history Fuck a record deal Song Written & Published by A.S.H.E.S the Chosen, The Writer’s Room 412, and Stampede Music Publishing