Professor F

[Intro: Fashawn] Uh, the maturation of Shawn, ah... [Verse 1: Fashawn] Speed the shit to get you open wide Roll a couple more kush, blow your high Who's that nigga? Don't be surprised It be that Young F from the far left side And we ball like Kenny Latimore If time is money, then there's nothing that I can't afford Reminiscing when I had a whore Put through more bullshit than a matador So it was either money or monogamy Running with a monopoly, death over dishonesty And yes, I confess I smoke a lot of weed Heck, I'm vexed, when will the drama cease? Huh, maybe in my absence All I seem to hear is "I'm crazier than your average" I don't vacate, I hibernate Awake, just to defecate on your siphon space [Verse 2: Fashawn] Yo, far from a 5 percenter Tote 5s to survive the winter A nightmare to you rhyme beginners You light years behind, admit it Nigga speed up, cause we over the limit The weed crushed, and so is the linen A K.O. and I'm finished, grab a hold of the 'Chemist I'm controlling the rhyme, he's controlling the rhythm I just focus my energy and channel it Hit them like fingertips on a mandolin My manuscripts is scripture for niggas who's scrambling Running red lights like ambulances Analysis of a G, who found his way out the street What you make in a month, he's counting in a week Never saw defeat like I was born obese Usually, victory doesn't sound this sweet, uh [Verse 3: Fashawn] They might never understand the flow However, I don't plan on peddling grams and O's forever No, expand while they expire Fourth quarter, still in the game while the rest tired (Hey what's wrong with y'all?) Tell me where your stamina at, Pa? Ball so hard, slap my hand on the background And this is how real rap feel Watch these new-era cats get their caps peeled I'm a Maybach, you're a seat class You're catching heat rash, trying to be Fash Making ministers mad, commit a sin and I laugh I'm on a sinister path, uh Really? it's as simple as math Addition, subtraction; dealing with an assassin, nigga Ashes to ashes, your ass is finished You'd never clash with a master, a massive riddance Matter of fact, all you bastards should ask permission 'Fore I react, in that classic Shields Ave tradition Staff gets toe-tagged once we pass the entrance I'm bad like Mike's dad, Joe Jackson niggas Disrespect 'Pac, get that ass a whipping Smack-dab in the middle of the lab inventing Forget swag, I ain't got half the ism I'm all natural, and that's the difference Motherfucker, it's F [Outro: Fashawn] Uh, rest in peace, Heavy D Young niggas smoking dope This J is for you Heyo O, I told these niggas man Relax your body, let your conscience be free Rocking with the sounds of the A.L.C [Interlude: Sample] "For a prayer, we must make: Father, God, I am just learning how to pray Bare with me First I thank you for the life of our pivotal savior..."