Leverage (Feat. Kool Ad, Fat Tony, Lakutis & Nasty Nigel)

All I want is a house and some money to travel
A simple game putting letters together like Scrabble

Sisyphus's lesson crushing the rock into gravel
Which of us truly trust how they knocking the gavel?

Plus though I be floating around like I'm stocking the ammo
Tucking the Glock in the camo
Fuck it, I'm lost in the channels

Surfing on surfaces, cursing in cursive and shit
Hurdling hurdles and hares

And turtles aware of the circles and squares
To a certain degree

A person you certainly see
Is certainly, certainly me

Or whatever, Kool A.D.,
Till they pulling the curtain on me
I'm Erick Sermon, the generic version

Virtually not, but I'm Parrish too
Shut the fuck up, I'll embarrass you

Nah, don't care, I'm so careless my dude
Yes I'm aware I'm a fool

Sexy and arrogant too
Son and the heir to nothing in any apparent view

Thought I told you like once or twice you should
stare into my raps like Pun once dared us to

And we did
Who do we kid?
Why do we do what we did when we did?
Ooh baby ooh baby shit

Groovy
You feel me?
Sit back, cold beverage, writing leverage

Groovy
You feel me?
Sit back, cold beverage, writing leverage

You know me, I don't need no introduction and shit
Girl screaming "Anthony Obi, hold me!"
Like she know me, she won't quit

Already got one holding my arm in this
But I think I'm bout to add two to the list
And I just might add you if you equipped

With some good sense, and some good teeth
And feeling free like a loose leaf, single sheet

On the beat I'm crisp like a Pringle be
I'm on 34th Street like Kris Kringle be
Just little old merry me, unmerrily

Calling up my agent, flagrant
Nigga got me sleeping on the pavement

Why the fuck you think I made this wavelength?
Ain't tryna live in my relative's basement

It ain't easy being meezy, when a measly
Hundred dollars lost can make a nigga queasy

I need my full fucking feezy
Ever since I got grown, left home
Been feeling all alone like fish a la carte, bitch this is the start

Of me being a meanie to you niggas seeming teeny
You stringy like some linguini, thinking that you can see me

That seemingly might be easy but you're quite beneath me
You're stinky like a queef be

From a bitch that hasn't washed for weeks
Hoes known to jock you geeks
Cause they think you so unique

But solely you're phony and only phoning in when you speak
I'm going in on your freak, weekly and reeking of weed

Sweetly I'm sealing the deed, revealing just what she need

Like honey to bees or chickens to feed
Or money to me or A/C to a hundred degrees

I smoke nothing but trees, you are nothing to me
And while you're living in dreams I'm reeling in reality

59 pounds on the Eurostar in France
Business Class feature Sauvignon in the glass

I don't know French Lucy teach it when she speak
I study in the bed and I only learned "Oui!"

Swimmies in the duffle cause I'm tryna hit the beach
And I'm tired of the Rockaways, too ugly for my feet

No room for devices, leave it at the beep
The only thing magnetic is the hotel key

So baby don't tell me that we living next week
Cause I'm feeling this week, life is feeling this sweet

What type of feeling this be? what kind of strain is this weed?
I know you understand me since we're on the same beat

You can hear the foreign silence ringin as I pen this verse
Moleskine with the Star Wars cover, Peroni quench the thirst

I ain't about shit cause I recycle my outfits
Dawg, I'm walking on the outskirts of a country unknown

5 Euros a six-pack; Victor is you with that?
My eyes rolled to the top, drop while I sit back

World's Fair globe trotter popping on a greater scale
In the end might leave it all, that's word to Christian Bale