GOD CMPLX

It's Crook
C.O.B
Goddess Gang

Rolling through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist
With these old ghetto poems
Rolling through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist
With these old ghetto poems

I'm killing off instrumentals in my leisure
For me it's easy to be elite
Not only do I hear, I got synesthesia, I see the beat
Let the speakers speak, I'm the syllable Makaveli
I'm winning like the cat with the fattest belly
I don't even see defeat
Black revolution huh, how can the master emancipate
Mansa Musa the handsome rap executioner
Fuck these rap executives, let's grab tecs and shoot 'em up
For the rap checks these crackheads would have sex with Lucifer
This rap shit has been a joke
I just put it in a chokehold till it pass out
Then I mash out like a posse
With cash in my envelope, straps in my winter coat
Imagine somebody killing your family you getting revenge
By slashing the killer's throat
My passion's identical to that when I'm rapping
When it come to spazzing I been the GOAT
Hit the track with the illest flow
Still eatin goat stew, body bagging the GOATs too
No lie, you polygraphing the wrong dude
So true, me and Roc probably smacking your whole crew
Shooting for the stars I'm autographing your dome too
When I'm in the booth spitting, it's a privilege to witness it
Like seeing Moses sitting with his Ethiopian wife
Writing the sentences of Genesis, poetry filled with religious images
This is quintessential penmanship, this is it
No more talking, when death comes for you
It's six coffins for your top five, I left one for you

Rolling through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist
With these old ghetto poems
Rolling through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist
With these old ghetto poems

Came into this thing with a pipe dream and a crude sense of the grind
Now my tongue slicker than black ice, flow is refined
No amount of dough can replace the sweet thrill of my climb
And I still ain't reached my peak, my work to steep to define
Roc on a rampage, and no I ain't talking Dwayne
I'm terrorizing all these hype beats
Till I'm the only monster that remaining
Rap Chupacabra, might be too macabre to plain
I'm used to stalking and killing beats
Leave 'em putrefied and unclaimed
But now I'm more compassionate when I take a stab at these Cliff notes
Don't even let the ink dry fore I lay 'em to rest with a swift stroke
Born with the face of an angel, vocal arrangements like a Mephisto
Stick 'em with three of my deadliest litanies
Set to a melody, call it a pitch fork
My melanin stain allows me to dwell in the flames
Like Osiris, my papyrus made me underworld king
Keep a challis full of hibiscus like blood in my veins
Y'all know my body, I'm goddess ain't fucking with none of my gang
Ain't tucking in none of my chains, here's hoping they took it well
My future golden, y'all obsolete like tokens on Brooklyn rail
Holy book of Sa-Roc, got the globe pushing my tale
Depicted on the walls of Giza with the Sol, Crook, and the flail
That's pharaoh talk, heroes depicted from feral stock
So I go wild and point the bullet my bio till my barrel's shot
Say my era wack, lil bruh I'm rap native like Arawak
My command of this cadence make 'em yessir me like Arafat
I intersect at Clarence X and Asata Shakur
Premier at the Met in a gown, with two straps and call it couture
Meditate with a stick of copal on how the best of DC and SoCal
Meet on the track and seize your most active fans
With no probably cause
See I been trying to make it clear that I'm rap G-O-D
Bring in the year with power circles only, C.O.B
I'm out to scorch the earth habitually torching verses
Till my authored onslaughts drop the opposition to one knee

Rolling through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist
With these old ghetto poems
Rolling through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist
With these old ghetto poems

Ghe-Ghe
Ghetto ghetto
Ghetto ghetto
Ghetto poems