Cullinan kinda chameleon, color on carapace change whenever I want Spraying these singles like Luis Arraez, the junkies start itching whenever I don’t Push up Toronto, I’m walking down Queen in these maple Margielas, don’t ask for no quotes Lil shorty told me that I’m close to her ends, she dropping a pin like PBA choke Back to Chicago then beeline to bunker I’m 360-whipping this digital dope The crackle you hear in the demos I laid is a product of wearing my frigidest rope in this session For 3 and 3 zeros I turn to a Hessian but if the shit weak then don’t ask me no questions The nurse and the surgeon must think I’m a sturgeon from all the ossetra the boy been ingesting Might get a gold and a platinum for jetsvm, might pull a Mach-Hommy and tax for the pressing Considering where imma be in a decade a thousand right now is a cogent investment Nick came and molded my dental impressions, I went to the Ville to see gang and to grab it 10 on 10 combo cut deeper than insult, my mouth full of carats like Looney Tune rabbit Blasting my unreleased shit w the profit, we on the same timing when dealing w traffic I get to the spot a lil quicker, get love from the niggas who know bout the patch on my jacket Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of rapping but just in case I gotta switch up my racket I’ll move to a ranch in the Hyogo prefecture and tend to the cattle that made me a classic RR stretching like Mr. Fantastic, I switch out the silencer, now it’s a torch You see us in traffic don’t get right behind us, that bumper to bumper gon leave yo shit scorched Wasn’t on shit till my house started burning, I figured I needed to jump off the porch Know too many niggas who ain’t try to flee from the heat of the furnace, that shit is unfortunate Plug hit my phone, said he got the secreto so secret he can’t even tell me the coordinates Medium rare, I ain’t worried bout nothing, that shit is so tender I just need a fork in it Blessed the sommelier brought me a pairing, he lookin confused cuz I’m leaving the cork in it I bring the Sauvignon back to the crib, I don’t know what to do with it, guess it’s an ornament Benjamin Franklin must been a contortionist way that these hunnids are folded so tightly inside of my every available pocket Bankroll is starting to wear out the fabric, I’m waiting for Yohji to go and restock it