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jj soyke - i am your father lyrics

imma keep this real brief
tired of people talking bout, i ain’t lyrical and sh-t
shouts out ypa marc, shouts out angel, shouts out nba jay, shouts out andy
free jd bruh
cause on foemen i can spit

{verse 1: jj soyke}
ain’t on no opp sh-t
i am just god-sent
i am the prophecy biggie and pac sent
we toting chopsticks
i’m in a moshpit
saint laurent fit
money dripping like a faucet
you boutta cop it? your parents just bought it
i am a god and you on the rap wave that i have started
you are r-t-rded
imma f-ck all on your sisters and daughters
fight a dyk- like she dr. lonardi
her bag is coach? must be vince lombardi
smoking these swishers pull up in a rari
sipping bacardi
i am not sorry
i am but hardly
making it rain like hurricane harvey
eating these raps this man is starving
no d-game like james harden
k!lling these kids you could call it abortion
money extortion
check i endorse it
don’t gotta force it
riding in porsches
hitting the suorin
turning the corner
i pull up in foreigns
i’m balling some more
i got more sh-t in store
i’m pouring and souring
down corners with joyner
at 3 in the morning
going door-to-door
hitting corner stores with a .44
call law and order i’m born to sour
you were born to snore
and sleep on me i’m folklore
you a broke boy you are so poor
i’m the most wanted you folks wanted
so i’m running, i’m making money
this the game so i asked “who run it?”
don’t say nothing
i make gunnids i rape gunners
i stay “a hunnid” you stay funny
i stay gunning
this game fun and
i make fun of these g-y junkies
i’m straight running on gang

d-mn, i love all the brothers man
swear i love all the buhs
b-tch, holdup, aye, holdup, bang!

{verse 2: jj soyke}
b-tch you raps be the minimal
i am a criminal
flipping these syllabals
d-ck is miniscule
boutta be ridiculed
i am the f-cking subliminal bibilcal criminal
i am invincible
your clout is invisible

your girl got physical
it is not fixable
just copped the digitals
mess with munic-p-ls
leave you hospitable
i am despicable
rap is god-like
i am a mythical
your b-tches are fictional
i am a winnable, quizzical, frictional, lyrical, miracle, individual with a tennis shoe
cause i’m running this game like it’s cross country
it’s all sunny
i call hunnies
i make money
you hate money
you hate stunting
you never won and you stay salty
are you served with fries?
caught a fool with a 9
put a pole to his eyes
now he poltergeist
and he sacrificed
he overpriced
shoot his tooth like a buck now he overbite
he cold as ice
b-tch, i told you twice
found a bullet it was intercised
it will suffice
better take advice
get your bag right
it was imprecise
wooh
d-mn

- jj soyke lyrics

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