Lyrics Dagger Lane Operatic Society - Matthew 508

I was still getting money in the pandemic
Teach you how to stack a thousand, that's a band clinic
I got the kinda style that you can't mimic
I'm authentic with the pen it's not a damn gimmick
His and hers trans nickels in the tan Civic
While my cousin cook the soundtrack like Alton Brown
And I know my my presence felt when I'm not around
Ran around the corner from the Bean, shout to Watertown
I'm not exactly up but I'm far from down
50's on the scale while my brother put his daughter down
And we would meet behind the Arby's, pull the car around
Hundred pounds of purple back when Curt would hose the garden down
So much paper it was hard to count
Graceful but I'm trained to be hunter like a Scottish hound
And we would all protect our brothers like we guard the pound
Dialed in the polished sound

Fetty in the molly that's a party foul
All cap when you get to writing that's a proper noun
Free the G's behind the glass like a jar of loud
Checking if they had what I was missing like the lost and found
I built a strong foundation with the carbon rounds
Now I got my cake I'm eating too, I'm not apologizing
We started as a mom and pop to now monopolizing
You accepted less than what you're worth, I'm not for compromising
How could you stop a tyrant
Water up and down the block like they popped the hydrant
I got my chakra widened
I'm too aware, so now the rarest shit is not surprising
Careful but the posse violent
I'm the quasi-giant
Bag the brother sister that's a family of four
Cramming in the Porsche and I'm slamming all the doors
In some pants you can't afford hoe