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• Artiste: Mick Jenkins
• Titre: Is, This Cigarettes
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Honestly, I doubt it if I only seen it on the Internet Lot of niggas bred, not a lot of niggas thorough How this thing that I love gon’ kill me, is this cigarettes Is it nicotine Where my niggas at Making something of themselves placing bigger bets We got bigger fish to filet we ain’t laying up Don’t give ’em that shit from the free throw, niggas fucking hacks? Got the simulation glitching bitch we busting back Now they leaning in to listen, got the baritone Still a couple niggas drowsy off the 'tussin pack I’m feeling energies I’m even peeping pheromones I’m screening enеmies like casting calls for Marvel flicks Brought watеr to drink, brought water to gargle with If it was salt water most at the surface like some snorkel shit I’m in the dark water it’s black and white just like the orcas is Killing shit, Darth Vader even with the force These niggas forcing it Art paid us even with the failure, know I’m fortunate Raw papers twisting up these joints, I’m no contortionist Star gazer, look up at the sky and know it’s more than this Piss on niggas flows I’m Mr. Porcelain, please pardon me Salt shakers for the seasoning it ain’t no salt in me Sharp razors in my company they not just ornaments Far greater with my niggas, what’s the coordinates Honestly, I doubt it if I only seen it on the Internet It’s a lot of niggas bred, not a lot of niggas thorough How this thing that I love gon’ kill me, is this cigarettes Is it nicotine I was hotboxing the stain back at the gang way I been chain smoking no chains just shorty namesake I been lane switching I ain’t switching the frame rate Iron chef cooking you can’t stay in the same kitchen Whip it left handed my aim steady I can’t sway Bass clef branded they know that I keep it low key Eight packs legend I can’t stress it enough though Nigga born from pain, I remember when I would hit purp up for that quarter thang Got that bullshit off my shoulder like a halter top [?] the type of nigga to cop Baltic ave Been picking up the type of shit I ought to drop On my Andre shit I might just go and grab a flute ‘Cause flipping your shit for the mob is how they often flop I gave ’em water and I heard someone talking flutes A noble savage I can turn into Chernobyl if I drop this nuke Honestly, I doubt it if I only seen it on the Internet It’s a lot of niggas bred, not a lot of niggas thorough How this thing that I love gon’ kill me, is this, cigarettes Is it nicotine