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about

Produced by Radio Galaxy

lyrics

"Deckard"

P. out in wee hours of the night rolling larger than Marge
Running blades through like Deckard I’m Harrison Ford

Grinding an axe Stephen F. Lumberjack
Better have all my scratch, I’m ill
Find my homies to rack, gotta be on it to latch
Don’t bury the hatch
I’m saying, I don’t bury the hatch
I dig it up with the raps
My steady arm stronger than Satch, Mo
Satchel turning the page on niggas
Grizzly, all y’all niggas bear witness
Run them down, horse power Preakness
Triple my crowns, snitches get stitches
Delonte West shit, comic book slapped shit
Boom boom clap shit, we will rock you
Took a crack at it, half of y’all, crack addicts
Other half, whack at it, lack of word play
I’m like hey, I’d accept it half as weak as hump day
The Weakend, weapon of choice be the voice on the mic like Mean Gene Okerlund
Blade Runner

Hook 2x

I’m outgoing on that highlife
Now my court reign supreme Air Allnite

Verse 2

Niggas sounding off base, when I’m the Natural
Negro league of my own save blown
My pitch be monotone, not tactful
It’s classical, the new age, new Spencer slang
Change styles, fantastical
More, than a cap full, smorgasbord
Rhymes galore got a pallet full, it’s salt water
What’s it good for?
A cleanse to leave you with absolutely nothing like War
Words perfect, I excel, my stats pad
Whether I pad, note pad, these documents bleed man, I’m proof, read
All caps with this fine print, it’s like some horror-core shit
How a brother lynch, the stench
Side step the bodies keeping my clean sneakers
Stuck inside this ride sick like Cabin Fever
Heated temperature score big like Fat Lever
I give you nuggets to run with
Out of sight with it non-contrite with a full clip
My own path I dipped, middle finger to hindsight
My vision 20/20 in the dark still shine bright
Not a chi-lite, outgoing on that highlife
Now my court rain supreme, Air Allnite

credits

from S. C .O. T. T. I. E., track released March 22, 2019
(P. Corner, G. Corner, K. Jefferson)

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Scottie Spitten

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