Chimera Shadow Garden

Reportin' live from the 9-5-4
And if you ain't with the 9-5-4
Then you a 9-5-fo', you feel me? Yup

Uh
Real slick when I walk in
Skatin' on thin ice 'cause these bitches like whenever I'm talkin'
Never needed nothin' not involved with a payment
If it ain't cash or some gas, stop callin'
I ain't ever been somebody, then I started ballin'
He ain't ever been somebody, so he call me awful
But if wе compare our music, we gon' see who garbage

Bro, it's 'bout to be half a decade since I started
You just spent like half a decade workin' at a Target
Half a decade later, couple racks by my right side
Flexin' on 'em, Broward style, straight across my arm length
Bench press the whole city, workin' on my bar strength
Fuckin' wit' my team? No, he couldn't be
You ain't even really nice enough to occupy a spot on our bench
How you finna' blame the dealer, talkin' 'bout your cards bent?
And where I'm from, that mean two things

I could juggle Visas faster than magician card tricks
Or maybe I'll pull his card, persona change of heart shit
Cut it out literally, like, "Hol' up, where his heart went?"
Glasses on my face, inner focus, Kent Clark shit
I could team huddle, mean muggin' through my hardships
I could beam bubble, but my wallet like lard, bitch
Yo' bitch ain't thick, my boy, you fuckin' wit' a large bitch
Eww, why?

Okay, PE$O never been one for the fuck around
If he fuck around, take his bitch, I'm finna' fuck around
Homie said he love her, he don't know that his bitch fuck around
Sleight of hand, take a couple Xans, finna' raise the bar
So I took a couple more Xans, feelin' so bizarre
Crash right through my city, Crazy Taxi, fuck a stolen car
He be ridin' solo, but his swag' stolen
How you finna' take the bar?
And not even gon' remake the bar?

This shit isn't even difficult, bruh
You can just smoke some shit
Or like, somethin', bro
Sike! You couldn't do this shit
God built me different
I'm really this in this bitch
W-D-F-A, Cypher Gang shit
You really thought this shit was over?
You thought I was just finna' talk on the beat?
Aye, fuck you, man
You smell, get to the money, bro
Why it sound like

Shiny word, bitch

Why it sound like murder?
I'ma spit some shit they haven't heard of
I said, "Why it sound like murder?" (yeah)
I'm finna' spit some shit they haven't heard of, okay

Do it then (but I just-, bro', but I just-, ooh)
Like, for real this time, you have literally one chance left
Ugh, fine dawg

I got this
Dummy

Fuck how I look, bitches love me for the sound from my diaphragm
All I need is kill, livin' like I could revive again
Find him off the 'Gram, throw hands, he ain't live again
Piece him like I'm dippin' puzzle pieces, I'm like a diagram
Rather you just get up and leave than to lie again
If he off a blunt, I'ma weave, tell him, "Try again"
He don't want no smoke, but I'ma roll, we gettin' fried again
Said he got the fye, my guy, bro', just light it then

You know where I'm from
Broward bred, Broward dead
Bitch, I grew up in the lion's den
Not only with style, man
They think I'm a wild man
But I'm just a mild man
Why it sound like murder?

I'm a monster, it's a Kyōkaen
Bigger walls, Kaio-ken
Busoshoku Haki, my dick pro'ly hit like Iron Man
Cookin' wit' no grease, studio like the fryin' pan
Plug said he dry, I'm like, "Why must you lie again?"
Pushed him for exotic, I need chronic, he said, Five or ten
How you finna' lie again?

That's the white people price
Y'all be trippin' over drugs that the white people like
He ain't seasoned when he schemin', he got white people spice

On God

Alright, alright, alright, no more rapping
Bro', what do you mean? Dog, that shit was fire
No, no, no, I've had enough of the excuses
Oh my God
You've had enough chances
What do you mean, dog?
No, bitch, die
(Ah!)