JJ Soyke - I Am Your Father Lyrics

I'mma keep this real brief
Tired of people talking about, I ain't lyrical and shit
Shouts out Ypa Marc, shouts out Angel, shouts out NBA Jay, shouts out Andy
Free JD, bruh
Cause on foenem I can spit
Ain't on no opp shit
I am just God sent
I am the prophecy Biggie and Pac sent
We toting chopsticks
I'm in a mosh pit
Saint Laurent fit
Money dripping like a faucet
You boutta cop it
Your parents just bought it
I am god and
You on the rap wave that I have started
You are retarded
I'mma f*ck all on your sisters and daughters
Fight a dyke like she Doctor 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
Killing these kids you can call it abortion
Money extortion
Check I endorse it
Don't gotta force it
Riding in Porsche's
Hitting the Suorin
Turning the corner
I pull up in foreigns I'm balling some more
I got more shit 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 soar
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 hundreds
I rape gunners
I stay a hunnid
You stay funny
I stay gunning
This game fun and
I make fun of
These gay junkies
I'm straight running on gang
Damn, I love all the brothers, man
I swear I love all the bruhs
Bitch, holdup, aye, holdup, bang
Bitch your raps be the minimal
I am a criminal
Flipping these syllables
Your dick is miniscule
Boutta be ridiculed
I am the f*cking subliminal biblical criminal
I am in invincible
Your clout is invisible
Your girl got physical
It is not fixable
Just copped the digitals
Mess with municipals
Leave you hospitable
I am despicable
Rap is god-like I am a mythical
Your bitches 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
He sacrificed
He overpriced
Shoot his tooth like a buck now he overbite
He cold as ice
Bitch i told you twice
Found a bullet it was intersticed
It will suffice
Better take advice
Get your bag right
It was imprecise
Wooh
Damn