| C-A Dr. Flow more |
| Got bars like I fucking had no doors, they don’t want |
| But shut your mouth like a cold sore |
| Sick like herpes, y’all can never hurt me, nah |
| Daydreaming got me hoping for wealth |
| Yeah, I’m calling myself and I’m focused to help |
| Keep it brighter than a street light |
| We fight, all up in this Keef |
| In the meantime, can’t you see we high? |
| You hip-hop generic, so weak |
| I’m Leif Erikson, watch me as I severe the beat |
| Yeah, I’m clever to speak, as I pleasure the peeps |
| Show her how to ball, bust the dirt off my cleats |
| Gon' do it, gon' do it, attitude precipitate |
| Leave 'em all wet with the reapers on deck |
| What the master gon' make |
| I’mma trash your whole state, won’t last |
| Bet that I’mma gas a full tact, we uhm |
| Right skating, bank making, swank shaking |
| Leaving all the cats waiting |
| What’s next, man? I’ve been waiting for a minute |
| But I masterpiece forms, do the time, look within it |
| So, I grind on ma', I’mma grind till my limit |
| Press on a shooting star like I’m Billy Kidman |
| Don’t dig 'em, this is what put me in a mindset |
| Where I don’t minds jet |
| Timeless rhymes when I find this, I don’t lie |
| And I put it on my eyelids, open, yeah |
| And now we got you hoping on the one |
| E’erything, high track got you soaking in the Sun, yeah |
| Ah, we so deadly |
| Bossed with redemption, lost with progression, fenced in |
| Flow sick, unhealthy, P-E-L-P |
| Pelp you, pelp me, ah |
| This that 5 star, Top Chef, bringing you that hotness |
| Won’t stop until my name’s never forgotten |
| A prophet, resembling a god in flesh |
| But the way he spit it was monstrous — Loch Ness |
| Had it locked down since a child |
| Now I’m in the clouds raining hell on that |
| Make it rain rap sound, rollin in like thunder |
| Ninth wonder, and I keep a pipe like plumbers |
| Causing a scarcity, on trees on tundras |
| Gone green, by all means like entendres |
| Insane in the membrane, and mitchondria |
| You niggas synthesizing, and he like, you might’ve conjured up |
| Got hits, but the Pros went and countered ya |
| They calling us a pain in the ass like suppositors |
| Ill minded just trying to remain positive |
| And spit it hotter than a top of a thermometer |
| Illiterate, real skilled lyricist |
| PEEP coming soon, this is just the gist of it |
| We too ignorant for ignorant |
| A major league problem if you pitching it |
| Pro Era |
| Ah, we so deadly |
| Bossed with redemption, lost with progression, fenced in |
| Flow sick, unhealthy, P-E-L-P |
| Pelp you, pelp me, ah |
| Ah, we so deadly |
| Bossed with redemption, lost with progression, fenced in |
| Flow sick, unhealthy, P-E-L-P |
| Pelp you, pelp me, ah |