Sick To My Stomach

[Verse 1] Eating beats, spitting acid reflux Me, myself and I, yeah it’s an honour to meet us On top of the game, I’m the log leader You blew your chance, your team sucks So I’ma black out and make sure that I kill the beat I’ve been doing it so I’m repeating history Looking in the mirror, who is the best, him or me Even with seven years of bad luck, I’ll end up with victory Victory lap on the track, there’s no competition I already did the warm up, I’m on a mission I’m tryna get Rachel Khoo in my kitchen Eating beats, taste the flavour I’m spitting [Hook] Good with the beat, word to the heart in my chest I’m that motherfucker, your sister’s next My styles rare, spitting blizzards in the summer The flow’s ill, I’m Sick To My Stomach [Verse 2] Excuse my French but her French kisses might be fucking awesome Nobody’s perfect but I don’t see her flaws, and She kinda got me all in love and shit But she might deny me so hold up, wait, fuck that bitch I am so ill I’m sick with flow Yeah, you hear the flute, but it’s not Piccolo Got the haters green like Namekians Big headed, so I stay ahead of them They just cannot get past, by the time they try they would’ve been lapped You can clash or crash but alas, you’ll end up coming last ‘Cause my mind’s so fast when I have to rap on the track, putting words down like traps Not a rapper, I just happen to be the deadliest catch [Hook] [Verse 3] One hearse, one verse, well I’ma need a whole fleet I’m priceless for free, so yeah you owe me And you can catch me blade running on beats Pulling the trigger but I’m standing on my own feet Want a woman to stimulate my third leg and my third eye Tryna get a home run, hopefully before my third try I’m tryna hit it out of the park before it gets dark If it does, I can moonwalk as my mind sparks I embark on my train of thought, my mind’s so sharp I’m carving up the beat, I’m an artist harder than Stark Robert Downey Junior on the beat, I’ve been bad My flow is ill, I’m fly with a sick bag [Hook]