Lyrics #Wtat - So-Low

Sharpen the blade ya boy about to cut-a-rug
No shutterbug this Big Boi is bossin' up
Show love to shows that show me more love
I love shows that have girls ensures I show up

Don't rock Gucci not Louie, not Fendi at all
I rock jean shorts with ball shorts replacin' my draws
I smoke a vape - to restrain my jaw
Cuz if I let loose - I would smack talk ya

Now hear me

I'm on that fun shit, this that one hit
Bangin' at the party, burnin' up the carpet
This that drunk shit, this that crunk hit
Bitches Krusty Krabbin' but they really chum bucket

I'm not Stevie, I see all you fakers
Since Kobe, I don't see too many Lakers
I'm kinda greezy, but that's just my nature
I'm not sleazy, my Ex is just a hater

My ex is fine tho, all my ex's dimes bro
If they were a penny less- they ain't mine yo
I'm superficial - kinda, new groove like the llama
She pancakes, best believe I'll Aunt Jemima

And you don't know me, not even a homie
If you tried to hold me you'd just end up gettin' rolled B
You just a phony, low-key bronie
Rainbow dash to the back of the class- madder fact go home B

I'm hungry- bout to gobble up some bars
This project number 2- your number 4 didn't get far
This project number 2, but number 1 in the charts
It's number one in the hearts and Mufasa in the stars

This my Wu-Tang Audition Tape, dinner plate
Demonstrates how I destroy dinners fate after dinners grace
Meditate over heavens place, diggin' devils grave
Send him back home, I phone home then elevate

Runnin on this track to live, the fact is
Your max skill level is me at practice
Get back kid, this wordsmiths batting average
Is enough to shatter the masses

Got that sugar beat turn it to molasses
Maximize extraction loaded with potassium
Method Man botany, call me Silas P
Resurrect my homies with that Ivory, I'm nice B

Row'N'Smokin' like Jimal King
Droppin' Cheetos on your 18th-century handwoven tapestry - Bruh
If you don't know So-Low got that plug
It ain't hard to get I know the bitch that makes these rugs