This track bolts out the gate like a track star who found out the finish line owes him money. The instrumental is wired tight: metallic hi-hats flicker like loose electricity, the bass growls like a guard dog waiting for a lawsuit, and the synths shimmer with “final boss room” menace.

Legend dives in with a flurry of bars that feel like a tournament bracket of punchlines, each one trying to uppercut the other:

“99 average, 99 tactics…”

He throws the first jab with a gamer’s grin, then escalates it into a Columbine-reference haymaker, folding the rhyme scheme like origami dipped in gasoline. Every couplet feels like it’s been sharpened in a basement dojo:

“Magic, voila, bye—you can’t match it.”
“Tragic, I could be nice about damage.”

The verse spirals into a tight coil of swagger, annoyance, wit, and gymnastic syllables. It’s not brag rap. It’s precision rap, the kind that sounds like the mic might actually file a restraining order.

The midsection of the song becomes a pressure cooker. Legend starts snapping so hard it’s like he’s trying to break the metronome out of spite:

“Keep snapping, yea I got the deep traction…”
“We assassin to the creed, you be lacking…”

He dances between assassin bars, gaming bars, mechanic jokes, Pokémon hands, and a Rosa Parks line that shouldn’t glide as smoothly as it does, but somehow floats like an expensive paper airplane:

“Ms. Parks I’m cool at the back bus…”

The whole delivery feels like someone juggling chainsaws while giving a TED Talk about confidence.

Things get even wilder in the second half. The wordplay mutates, grows limbs, and starts bench pressing the beat:

“Pokedex, Hitmonlee, I’m smacking.”
“Listen please, chemically unbalanced.”
“Rich Gannon steady with the Canon.”

The vibe shifts from chaos to philosophy, then right back to chaos wearing sunglasses. The rhyme patterns swing like drunk ceiling fans in a hurricane, but they never miss the pocket. Legend controls it like a chaotic superpower.

Then comes the emotional shiv. Between all the flexes, jokes, and anime-powered bars, he lets the mask slip:

“I ain’t gotta be sane just to love you.”
“Where the plug cuz my battery drained.”

It hits quietly before the beat swells again into pure adrenaline.

And then the final lap… the track snaps into a dark victory march:

“Had to do it for the love of the gens
Got a dark side too, but I’m dark-skinned.”

He closes the track with horns honking, lights flashing, a nod to Giannis, a jab at wannabe Shady clones, and a reminder that he mixes hits like a bartender who forgot the “no magic potions” policy.


Larger than life Intro

Shouldve known

The track cracks open like someone kicked the door of a dusty basement cypher and the speakers weren’t ready for the disrespect. The beat pops with that pogo-drum energy and a rubber-band bassline that slaps like a bouncer tapping you on the forehead. Everything is sharp, bouncy, and a little disrespectful in the best way.

Legend slides in with a cadence that flicks between punchlines and swagger-loaded taunts:

Scrub

Killin em

The track opens like somebody booted up late-night trouble on a cracked phone screen. The beat is smoky, seductive, and a little dangerous, like a voicemail you shouldn’t open but do anyway. Bass humming low. Snares snapping like rubber bands. Everything feels dimly lit and impulsive.

Legend steps in with a tone that’s equal parts fed-up, flirted-out, and money-motivated:

“Set me up, book me on Messenger
I wasn’t down with the mess enough…”

Right away it’s messy romance over hustler logic. He’s irritated, amused, and fully aware he’s about to ruin his own progress. The hook melts into a string of petty wit and explicit honesty

Wildfire MeMix

hey M.j. ima turn ya birthday into him day 

Jilly Bean

Live thru the pain

Take you back

this one floats different. It’s not a rap track; it’s a soft confession wearing Air Forces. The whole piece moves like a late-night ride home after doing too much thinking and not enough lying to yourself.

🐯 hello 🐱 kitty 🦁

Prince Charlez

Related tracks