Come Come

[Verse 1: Rokamouth] Yo the first born son was a burnt lit star Certain sounds could just touch my heart Working hard, and my team still starve Outchea, for us they pulling new cars on these old rap farts Top the fools, i'm off these charts I said, switching pronto, no need to front ho Used to look at him like that's my uncle Now it's a shame that I got to hunt you Bangin' on my own beats, won't need Russell Young nigga, Running up, snatch and hustle It's a BK nigga, bouta strap the muscle If your raps are wack and you lack the bundle Cause I do it all, young enough to live and see old kings fall Old enough to keep my force still strong Throwing the track like a cannon ball Through your walls, you're gonna hear my call Certified til I die I'm raw If I hit the stu, and come back with mo' I put it in the stores', Platinum fo' sho' And spend it all on dro like I've done before If a trap star could, let a trap star grow I'll flip my dough because that's all I know 24/7 and never ends all ho .44 let my lungs feel smoke And I've kept it trill cause that's all we know That's 47 goonz, made that track with smoke Niggas on my throats, shooting shows on tours Leave it to my pros and my young bro Joe Cause it’s not his fault, they putting styles on halt And my other side glides each line I float See my mind in my rhymes on boss Rap rebels of a walking line They marching even on the front line When the time comes Roka keep it loaded if know you better wanna run [?] Hanging off the tongue, stay spitting hot bullets Now my whole verse done Come, Come [Hook: Dirty Sanchez] (4x) Come, Come Now Who's number one now? Thought it was a joke 'Til the numbers starting showing up [Verse 2: Dirty Sanchez] Dirty want his money right now And his credit I deserve my respect for this shit that I imbedded I am better than them niggas who pretended that they them niggas Who be lying to them niggas who be buying they shit so Fuck the government word to my brother man From the 5th Flo' Won't get fed if your mouth is closed That's something he told me The 47 Og's running it low key I'm still Dirty and I'm still 7:30 My vision is still blurry so picture perfect ain't really certain Blind bitch baby, does the cover match them curtains? Still couldn't block my shine Chakras divrine like 33rd degree Fresh 47 embroidery Pro Era property, no loitering Can't say my whole team eating yet But I'm cooking up a mess Where syringes were pressed: dirty kitchen I'm spillin' all my kids on her dress, Started living what I'm thinking Decider, we next stop Stop and then frisk Slaughtering pigs anybody can get it Shooting stars, now make a wish Rocking skins like the skins we rocking Powerpuff smoking on that blossom We're running the game and this shit is exhausting But I don't give a fuck cause this shit is awesome 4-7 [Hook: Jakk The Rhymer] [Verse 3: Jakk The Rhymer] I'm from the Era, where we never show weak niggas love They phonies, me and the homies holding it up My only place first shorty never lost Off the bus in New York, trying to record Man, you're favorite rapper down the side Recognize, they don't play with eyes They an optical allusion like Optimus Prime Break a rhyme down in the summertime If I don't separate you and me I'm acknowledging your truancy Move like rocket ships, who are we? Move and sing, Word to my higher Buddha Seeing through the eyes of Judah I annihilate a loser The crown jeweler, Boundary of a Goddess Not a façade, the Brooklyn niggas is on Demanding in large, we the men in charge No progress, it's the Progress Start spreading love, Gospel Demanding in large, we the men in charge No progress, it's the Progress Start spreading love