Chamberz

[Intro]

Nah, peep I hear ‘em though
I hear ‘em, I peep it
Everybody talking about they're tired of this
They're tired of that
You know
Statistically rap is in a horrible place right now
You know what I’m saying
People act like they want different stuff
We about to see if they want different stuff
You know what I’m saying
Summer ‘95
For real like who, who fucking with it
What's fucking with Summer ‘95
Nothing out
Ain't nothing out fucking wit it
Talk to ‘em G

[Verse 1]

On scrolls I pen scriptures, audio pictures
That’s tighter than the grip of a boa constrictor
Magnificent, dressed in all black like Maleficent
Niggas sending shots on they album like they 50 cent
But I rise high up above all the nonsense
And put my energy towards my vowels and my consonants
On every continent like a body of water
I keep it a buck you keep it a dime and a quarter
Cluster fuck of women squeezing air out the rubber duck
Fuck a knuckle up, buckle up I got the summer tucked
Should be hanging in a art museum
Battle like a gladiator in a coliseum
Leave that nigga in a mausoleum
Cause I’m built like that
Put the sword away and hit you with the hilt like -crack-
Pon ya head top while a girl swallowing my egg nog
Then I hit her with the bedrock ‘til the bed rocks

[Hook]

What you want nigga tell me what you want nigga
What you really want nigga hit you with that funk nigga
What you gon’ (do)
‘cause we coming for you
How you feel nigga tell me how you feel nigga
How you really feel nigga, let me know it’s real nigga
What you wanna (do)
‘cause we coming for you

[Verse 2]

I don’t hesitate, quick to separate if a nigga fake
Pocket full of cheesecake like I won a sweepstakes
Riddle me this why does the riddler exist
‘cause the man that knows something knows he don’t know shit
Black excellence, stays prevalent in my residence
Elegant and short but like a mouse to a elephant
Goon to a goblin, moon to a howling
Night time with a knife I commit flight crimes
Write rhymes, ‘til my arms get gangrene
French cuisine and you niggas are canteen
Diagnosed microphone fiend ‘cause I overdose
Ride over beats with the flow like a motorboat
Leave ‘em in a state of comatose when my vocals go
Tryna to keep the green regenerating like Piccolo (sheesh)
G dot P, V.I.P. Like B.I.G. Baby

[Hook]

[Verse 3]

Richter scales couldn’t measure what I do to the pavement
Soulaan survived centuries of enslavement
But we gon’ rise to the sky like a soul, thickest hoes
Give and go like Manut Bol off a pick and roll
Fuck a hole leave you in a ditch that you can’t escape
Niggas don’t really want smoke they just came to vape
On my way to get fellatio, from my out of state hoe
She loves giving brains to stars like Galileo
And watch the wood grow like Pinocchio
Put the buster sword on a chicken like a chocobo
Bad chick shawty half black half Tokyo
Rose Gold G flow colder than the Poconos
Outfit and chain D.o.C logo overload
Fuck the place up it’s Ludacris how we throw them bows
It’s all about bringing back the times
Some of the best music vibes, Summer ‘95

[Hook 2x]