The Burn Notice

[Skyzoo] The 7-1-8 flag carrier Barely accounting the passing since my classic And since I classed in, they're using me to give 'em a class sense And I don't even remember what class is To each one his own I'm John Wall, the money leading my road I sign before I signed, get my sneakers and go So if the come and go, the bottom line is a tuck and roll Try'na hide something in the broad's underclothes Lyrically sitting me in between 1 and 4 Possibly the 5th but I'm out of reach from the 6 and on Like get 'em I'm gone, still on my pen strike The author or Brad Jordan, so know what my pen's like The Kanye of Duck Down, Sean Corey of JAMLA Corner store with the grammar, y'all applaudin' the banter All in all with the stanzas, the literature smack The tape comes with a rope, you can calligraphy that [Hook] Far as rap go, rap go In and out of leagues We don't rap close None of that is similar to me And if we that close That rope don't abide to me Play the back bro Bodied if you get a bunch of speed, I mean I burn something, I burn something, yeah I burn something, I burn something, yeah I burn something, I burn something, yeah I burn something, I burn something, yeah [Rock] Stupid niggas try'na rap need to read books You think hijack means getting your weed took Fuck all that shit you talkin' 'bout, your whole team crooks You got a couple niggas on your team with that fiend look (Ew!) Jaw shaking all crazy, y'all playin' gon' make me angry Y'all gon' lay in the morgue, Tracy Plus y'all lazy with your bars lately I'm raising the bar, raising all hell Somebody should call Satan Tell him a monster done stole his whole crib And he 'bout to drop it off at your crib I give 'em HELL You wouldn't raise hell if hell was your kid ? stepped on dog shit, this nigga frail! We done passed that stage and the click blaow! On that stint, you tried to cop pleas, you Chris Brown! Lying 'bout you palm the Mag, please stop it Treat yourself to one of them shards of glass freeze pops [Hook] [Sean Price] 5,4,3,2, start a pistol blast off No proctologist, Ruck is rapping his ass off Niggas lost like the Tribe of Shabazz Find 'em with a verse that'll surprise their ass Wizard of wordplay, all my phrases rock shit Brownsville, still smoke haze and chocolate Fuck a fair one, I don't get paid to box, bitch Gang leader, say shoot, your ass get shot which Ran the team, futuristic laser the beam Heat spit, street shit have me way off my Dīn Writing a rhyme, should be studying my Qur'an Like when I rhyme even though the shit is Haraam Dropping a bomb, nickname Napalm Sean Stick to your skin, big gun raised in my arm Breaking his arm, listen to this shit with your mom I would've said your pops but the nigga is gone P! [Hook]