Banshee

[Verse 1: Blvck Svm] Sippin out coconuts in the tropics, I don’t even like the taste I’m just doing it for the optics Back in March when I finally started dropping consistently brodie hit me and told me that I’m a prophet I been speaking the chicken into existence, I fill the pot with my diction and put all of my wrist in The flow patterns I’m mixing to keep you on your phalanges The SRT got the nitro, on the interstate it turn to a banshee New Figaro turn my neck to the Andes, the pressure used to be mounting now it’s pebbles like what’s up in the bеzel Flying colors, the game tеsted my mettle You stick with me through my levels I put you in LV like the Rebels Fashion plugs got several, one for the kicks and the jackets One used to bless me with hoodies but now he switching his racket You probably thinking I spend a lot on my fabric but I wrote so many verses for rappers they dish em to me like Magic My credit with em immaculate When I say I got shooters I ain’t talking bout hoopers I don’t need em for nothing currently, maybe in future, but I doubt it That’s all imma say about it Booth packed out, threw on some shades, my vision clouded Tinted green like the gwala they thought I was power scouting The dope screaming and shouting, the engineer hit it with a compressor He so faded he talking to predecessors Zoom meeting I chopped it up with investors I went in looking for something and left out with nothing lesser Rick Owens sweater is stuffed in back of my dresser Two sizes too little, imma return it like Devin Hester