Raw Freestyle

[Verse 1] Yeah, yeah Uh, they, fuck Uh, yeah They ask me if I'm Tyler, the nasty Nigga that used to be in seventh grade watching Degrassi But yall niggas and your whips with your rims and your hat with the brims rolling right past me But I could give a fuck less about what you doing Who you screwing, who you booing I got these bitches brewing in my gold pots You could see the Rolex, the gold watch See them gold (?) but you won't stop I'm in that bape shit, or that bathing ape shit That shit that make you my Superman hoodie is cape shit You on that fake shit, that true religion, abercrombie, 'postale, nigga my t-shirt is pastel My nigga I pass well Well passed, and I pass that fucking class well And when your bitch see me, she be like "Oh my gosh, your so (?), man you're so swell" Like I'm so swole, this bape shit is so old, older than the ice cream shoes I have that's growing mold And they say "Ace, you're genius" I say "I play piano, make songs, a big penis" Cause when I have 2, listen to Neptune shit, I'm never Mars or Venus, you seen this My 3D glasses still the cleanest, enis, anus, nigga you could paint this is a mutha fucking bush All you niggas running but I'm still not in a rush and I'm winning No races, but I'm grinning Don't believe in God, but I'm sinning He-man and she-man and he-man confused than Yall want the rims, but I'm still chilling in the mutha fucking mini-van like What it do, what it do, fuck you, and your crew, OF to the death, nah Yall know I do bail, yall rep yall set until the death nigga this OF until, until And nigga thats real, and nigga I'm raw, I'm bigger than my boss the cold 86 degrees heat on need with your bitch screaming out my name gagging on her knees And nigga I'm reed, eating mutha fucking ice cream reese's pieces Nigga I'm the (?) I'm the shit, You could call me Ace, The Creator A.K.A. feces I'm eating like a feces [Interlude] What the fuck is my problem! I'm a let this one ride out tho I'm a let the keys fuck with the drums A.C.E, OFM, Bangin' on your FM, yes It was all a dream, now I got my own magazine, word up I'm out, peace