Released: October 3, 2013
Songwriter: Joyner Lucas
Open your mind
Breathe
Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine
You're entering a new dimension
A dimension of sound
A dimension of sight
A dimension of mind
You're moving into a land of [?] shadow [?]
Come with me
You lock this door with the feeling of imagination
Low-Frequency Oscillators
You motherfuckers
[Verse 1]
How the fuck they gon' talk about me?
Bitch, you talkin' 'bout more
You talkin' bout peace, should I talk about war?
You talkin' bout a nigga 'bout a body gotta ride or drive
Or when I catch you, beat you, I just hop up in your Maserati
Get pissed when I spit liquor
A fully grown pimp, bitch with a [?]
I'ma fully, I'ma automatic stick shift [?]
With a big dick and a mentioned killer
Certified nigga, I ain't talkin' bout bars
And def come in threes, I ain't talkin' 'bout four
The best come with me, they ain't resting in peace
I'm STD's on your MPC
They envy me, you're the big pet peeve
A lot of rap niggas don't interest me
[?] press press keys on a nigga had 'em be the itos on Belvita cheese, eggs on my rita
With a chicken noodle soup and a Solo on the side
Pull up on a ride, in the morning when I rhyme
With a mouth cat busy ever dreams of a Drizzy with Cassie and Nicki tryna go at a Minaj
Never scared of death, I don't know why I'm alive
Let her take risks I don't know when I'ma die
Tethered to the booth like I know went over top
And I never been a snitch, I don't know a lot of cops
Cop cars on the block for had the block all blocked off and I blocked more
Mama had a baby and the baby head popped off when the block niggas chopped off on the block, pause
Open up your eyeballs, get a good look
You looking at a nigga that was in a good book
In the rap game, everybody sound the same, with ya lame ass songs with a really good hook
I cook crack on the stove and sell it to a nigga that was jealous of the shit that I was yellin' on a beat that he's probably feelin' so he caught feelings had to drill him in the street
Kill him with the rhythm, put the pistol in his [?] hit him, get him, and then kill him in the middle of the east
Heavy metal beats, never settle, but I never been or ever will
Breathe
Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine
You're entering a new dimension
A dimension of sound
A dimension of sight
A dimension of mind
You're moving into a land of [?] shadow [?]
Come with me
You lock this door with the feeling of imagination
Low-Frequency Oscillators
You motherfuckers
[Verse 1]
How the fuck they gon' talk about me?
Bitch, you talkin' 'bout more
You talkin' bout peace, should I talk about war?
You talkin' bout a nigga 'bout a body gotta ride or drive
Or when I catch you, beat you, I just hop up in your Maserati
Get pissed when I spit liquor
A fully grown pimp, bitch with a [?]
I'ma fully, I'ma automatic stick shift [?]
With a big dick and a mentioned killer
Certified nigga, I ain't talkin' bout bars
And def come in threes, I ain't talkin' 'bout four
The best come with me, they ain't resting in peace
I'm STD's on your MPC
They envy me, you're the big pet peeve
A lot of rap niggas don't interest me
[?] press press keys on a nigga had 'em be the itos on Belvita cheese, eggs on my rita
With a chicken noodle soup and a Solo on the side
Pull up on a ride, in the morning when I rhyme
With a mouth cat busy ever dreams of a Drizzy with Cassie and Nicki tryna go at a Minaj
Never scared of death, I don't know why I'm alive
Let her take risks I don't know when I'ma die
Tethered to the booth like I know went over top
And I never been a snitch, I don't know a lot of cops
Cop cars on the block for had the block all blocked off and I blocked more
Mama had a baby and the baby head popped off when the block niggas chopped off on the block, pause
Open up your eyeballs, get a good look
You looking at a nigga that was in a good book
In the rap game, everybody sound the same, with ya lame ass songs with a really good hook
I cook crack on the stove and sell it to a nigga that was jealous of the shit that I was yellin' on a beat that he's probably feelin' so he caught feelings had to drill him in the street
Kill him with the rhythm, put the pistol in his [?] hit him, get him, and then kill him in the middle of the east
Heavy metal beats, never settle, but I never been or ever will
more tracks from the album
From the album
Joyner Lucas popular songs