Word to the nerds list, I ain't just some nigga attached to rap
First I'ma wordsmith, then a gangsta immediately after that
I'm a Cancer male, they say a Taurus would fit this style of mine
I disagree, I'm just compatible wit the dollar sign
Often cowards are granted power
We in a complete crisis
My speeches go over heads probably cause heat rises
I'm from that era closed fists address you in broad daylight
Now niggas wear a dress and sit to piss like broads, gay like
Despite em throwin shade I gave light
Deviance on display, currency on my psyche
Flow encourage violence on the way
They're informed that all the smoke I invite in, ashes piling on the tray
What they are inspired by is senseless, aren't admired
I'm relentless spurring creative writings golden age
Rare profiteer, doctrinaire, tireless overpaid
What they think of me I'm not to care
Chip upon my shoulder, calm composure
Gone to sober, reliance on restraint
Now ya know
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
On my worst day my rear view mirrors crowded wit lackluster clowns
And that fast I'm in their rear view mirror I'm lappin that cluster now
Chasin a bunch of dead rappers
The ones alive don't live up to my standards
I'm in your peace wit guns and knives to give up to bystanders
I'm so cool wit you niggas not bein cool wit me
I don't lose no sleep and my eulogy will be beautifully written as a goat speech
No beef in between, don't get me wrong
But I would unplug your breathin machine to charge up my phone
Who told you words won't cut deep
I'll leave yo ass wit a partial heart
Eminem's understudy with combat, master of Marshall art
With a lapse into the abyss very apparent with the exception of one
By that second movie wit sister Mary Clarence I was second to none
The truth constructively we not the same
I'm dope and true to art
Ya'll smoke at hookah bars
I'm provokin smoke wit the use of bars like
Who can f*ck wit me
When you're convinced you've poured soil on my life
I'm at your front door wit a damaged rose and a lowering device like
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
Kassius the Great - Rose Lyrics
Kassius the Great - Rose Lyrics
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Word to the nerds list, I ain't just some nigga attached to rap
First I'ma wordsmith, then a gangsta immediately after that
I'm a Cancer male, they say a Taurus would fit this style of mine
I disagree, I'm just compatible wit the dollar sign
Often cowards are granted power
We in a complete crisis
My speeches go over heads probably cause heat rises
I'm from that era closed fists address you in broad daylight
Now niggas wear a dress and sit to piss like broads, gay like
Despite em throwin shade I gave light
Deviance on display, currency on my psyche
Flow encourage violence on the way
They're informed that all the smoke I invite in, ashes piling on the tray
What they are inspired by is senseless, aren't admired
I'm relentless spurring creative writings golden age
Rare profiteer, doctrinaire, tireless overpaid
What they think of me I'm not to care
Chip upon my shoulder, calm composure
Gone to sober, reliance on restraint
Now ya know
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
On my worst day my rear view mirrors crowded wit lackluster clowns
And that fast I'm in their rear view mirror I'm lappin that cluster now
Chasin a bunch of dead rappers
The ones alive don't live up to my standards
I'm in your peace wit guns and knives to give up to bystanders
I'm so cool wit you niggas not bein cool wit me
I don't lose no sleep and my eulogy will be beautifully written as a goat speech
No beef in between, don't get me wrong
But I would unplug your breathin machine to charge up my phone
Who told you words won't cut deep
I'll leave yo ass wit a partial heart
Eminem's understudy with combat, master of Marshall art
With a lapse into the abyss very apparent with the exception of one
By that second movie wit sister Mary Clarence I was second to none
The truth constructively we not the same
I'm dope and true to art
Ya'll smoke at hookah bars
I'm provokin smoke wit the use of bars like
Who can f*ck wit me
When you're convinced you've poured soil on my life
I'm at your front door wit a damaged rose and a lowering device like
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
First I'ma wordsmith, then a gangsta immediately after that
I'm a Cancer male, they say a Taurus would fit this style of mine
I disagree, I'm just compatible wit the dollar sign
Often cowards are granted power
We in a complete crisis
My speeches go over heads probably cause heat rises
I'm from that era closed fists address you in broad daylight
Now niggas wear a dress and sit to piss like broads, gay like
Despite em throwin shade I gave light
Deviance on display, currency on my psyche
Flow encourage violence on the way
They're informed that all the smoke I invite in, ashes piling on the tray
What they are inspired by is senseless, aren't admired
I'm relentless spurring creative writings golden age
Rare profiteer, doctrinaire, tireless overpaid
What they think of me I'm not to care
Chip upon my shoulder, calm composure
Gone to sober, reliance on restraint
Now ya know
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
On my worst day my rear view mirrors crowded wit lackluster clowns
And that fast I'm in their rear view mirror I'm lappin that cluster now
Chasin a bunch of dead rappers
The ones alive don't live up to my standards
I'm in your peace wit guns and knives to give up to bystanders
I'm so cool wit you niggas not bein cool wit me
I don't lose no sleep and my eulogy will be beautifully written as a goat speech
No beef in between, don't get me wrong
But I would unplug your breathin machine to charge up my phone
Who told you words won't cut deep
I'll leave yo ass wit a partial heart
Eminem's understudy with combat, master of Marshall art
With a lapse into the abyss very apparent with the exception of one
By that second movie wit sister Mary Clarence I was second to none
The truth constructively we not the same
I'm dope and true to art
Ya'll smoke at hookah bars
I'm provokin smoke wit the use of bars like
Who can f*ck wit me
When you're convinced you've poured soil on my life
I'm at your front door wit a damaged rose and a lowering device like
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
Your stories don't affect me
Just tell my shit correctly
You bury me bitch you better expect me
I rose up from the dead
Writer: Keith Edmonds
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid