[Verse 1]
Made my own nation out imagination
Imagine making everything you wanted out of patience
All while blunted, drinking, drunken, wasted
What you thinking cousin? grubbing
Fucking bacon
Pull up in basic
Sweat suit grey with some fucking asics
Nah some suedes thought you’s gonna say some J’s
Liaison of real city shit he stays on
Scaffoldings he hanged on
Value every second that he waited till the train come
Super hero living with my moms, got the cape on, it’s taped on
It’s winter coming so my fades gone
November out to LA like he Twon
Shouts to the couch that I stay on
Drank on the grey swan till we way gone
Next day better pray for ‘em or the day gone
Better pray for ‘em or the day gone
Better pray for 'em
[Hook]
Leppy Coqui
Definitely OD
Definitely low key
Definitely OG
To every kid who ain't over 18
Made my own beer my own year 1993
Leppy Coqui
Definitely OD
Definitely low key
Definitely OG
To every single kid who ain't over 18
Made my own beer my own year 1993
[Verse 2]
Made my own flag
I’m a nomad, a mutt
Strut cross the globe brag
A cro-magnon
Time zones had none
When i flown past
Switch it make my own path
Like I’m Bo Jackson
Two and one with that program son
Blew out my lung
Threw out my liver
Ain't even an old man
No man could get to me
I’m so bad
Before rap, it was Michael Jackson throwbacks
And I would dance along, felt like I’d enhance the song
Grew older now everybody chanting on
About what stance they on
You don’t think about the chance you wrong
You thinking, can or can’t conform
To the man or mom
I’m thinking if I can’t perform, I'm damaging a dorm
But I can so it’s on
[Hook]
Leppy Coqui
Definitely OD
Definitely low key
Definitely OG
To every kid who ain't over 18
Made my own beer my own year 1993
Leppy Coqui
Definitely OD
Definitely low key
Definitely OG
To every single kid who ain't over 18
Made my own beer my own year 1993
[Verse 3]
Made my own thing
No strings attached
Just rap no bling
Gold chain
My grandma gave me on my born day
That’s the lone thing
Its OD
Last time back must've been ’03
Remembering her back yard the mango tree
Dogs barking juxtaposed with rosaries
Holding me to pops trying get a hold of me
Smacked in manhattan man distractions what it’s supposed to be
It had to be
You close to me or you mad at me
It’s all the same savagery, sipping bally b
But I had to eat, so I had to stop
Went home to my baby girl in her lavish loft
The best is when she chefing pork chops and applesauce
And I eat it up, eat her up, squeeze her butt
Never cease to fuck
It’s what I need she needs it just as much
Did I leave ‘em with enough fuck it
