Sorry motherfucker
I don’t owe you an apology
Last 4 years just felt like a robbery
next 365, I’ma make what I find
‘Till I take what all mine
‘Till the water don’t dry

Effortless it never was
Shit is getting deeper
I used to be a dreamer
Now a losing sleeper
In a wife beater,
Polynesian, 
Sauce in the seat of 

My car 
Moving like a weekday
Ducking off the interstate
Hit a THC vape
Just get outta you way
Making my e-scape
Hate working 15 wage
Never sleeping these days
So it’s hard to see straight

A beauty full of visuals
Death goes minuscule
If you voice the pain
They reject you with their ridicule
Don’t let they petty moves finish you
Can’t let no fuck bitches get at you
Look at you
Sipping off my witches brew
Hitting ‘till I tilt the room
Counting up my sins in twos
Wish it then you lit the fuse
Snip and get the venom loose
Grip is on a killer tool
Quick to hit and chip your tooth
‘Bout to put my kicks on you!

Little dude?
But my dick been going on for miles
I like to dress for comfort
And that comfort is my style
Even with a throne
I’d prefer my trash piles
Resting bitch face in place
Bitch I slash smiles



I’m the one they adore
And I got the keys
They don’t ever say a thing or 
Open up to me
they don’t gotta play with me
Or take the penalties
Treat em like a soccer ball
And hit ‘em with my feet

Odds stacked to the ceiling
So I’m flipping up the gravity
Walking over flattery
I walk a path to mastery
Faster than a rapper speak
No trapper G
But passer of the gasoline
Grass is green
Last week the captain’s seat
Now I’m back to cracking teeth
Tasking me with clashing
Status quo
There ain’t better batter bro
Cake arise
I fake demise
And then go back to growth
I’m peaceful
Put my feet to ego
Persona only show
I go by the metric
If you please, call me “Kilo”
We go, about a 
Thousand in a second
Drown me in surround sound 
Hitting ’till I’m breathless
‘Till I’m falling like a countdown
Loudmouth presence
Blowing out a loud mound
Bounce down pressure
I put my feet on anybody 
Grip strength on tank
Holding on and never stopping
Turn the faucet on, 
Water running like they scared of something
Throne hunting want nothing
Just a better chair for grubbing

Rapping with sum
Flare and gumption
Do not care or compare discussion
I can put my feet on you or tile,
So child is up to you
Confronting is nothing new
I’m disgusted and coming true
I come through and they come unglued
I jump and they lay low
They duck on my say so
I talk and they face closed
I watch and they grateful
They came but ain’t came close
I’m paid in my faith grown
Out of darkness that takes souls
So chances we take those

Little dude?
But my dick been going on for miles
I like to dress for comfort
And that comfort is my style
Even with a throne
I’d prefer my trash piles
Resting bitch face in place
Bitch I slash smiles

I’m the one they adore
And I got the keys
They don’t ever say a thing or 
Open up to me
they don’t gotta play with me
Or take the penalties
Treat em like a soccer ball
And hit ‘em with my feet

Feet On Ya! - Single

Feet On Ya!

deuce ($irwave x S.O.C)

1960 trap

Dannyboy

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