Extinct (Extended)REASON

[Intro: Isaiah Rashad]
Yeah
I'm just sayin' that, yeah
I just, damn
Yeah, yeah
I take my licks in the storm—

[Verse 1: REASON & Joey Bada$$]
That storm headed, them doors severed
Fly around the chicken, I'm more breaded, my Lord better
Success in the air, my pores said it
They say I'm the greatest, nigga, them whores said it
Hopped in the Rolls, 2020, lock and I load
"Pop Shit" explode
Dot, Big Sean, Electron', feel like I gotta "Control"
My music connect with the people
And bridgin' like the top of the nosе
Soul, let 'em know 'bout them blocks that wе rose from
Legend in my city, must acknowledge it
I hustle 'fore I fight, head down, Nate Robinson, wait
Similar to Nate, we was runnin' from Jakes while makin' plates
I'm gettin' bread still
You niggas runnin' in place, I'm tryna treadmills
Monte had to sit down, so fuck the feds still
Got out, mansion in Victorville, we from the gutter, nigga, all day
So now, it's ghetto ponytails, nigga, we've come a long way, remix (Look, ugh)

[Verse 2: Joey Bada$$ & WESTSIDE BOOGIE]
Niggas want my old shit (Ooh), buy my old album (Yeah)
And tell your favorite rappers, "Come see me and peep the outcome"
I put a X right beside his name like Malcolm
And give his head to the nigga that he stole his style from (Heee, brrt, brrt)
I got a list of niggas to kill, don't ask, "How come?" (Boom, boom, boom)
Don't ask no names, just pray that you not one (Not one)
I ain't playin' with these niggas, but they still is my sons
And fuck your top five if I ain't your top one (Ooh)
These raps written in blood, I got lit off the buzz (Uh-huh)
Know how I'm feelin' this bud (Right)
I'm the king of my city (Facts), and I can feel all the love (Uh-huh)
There ain't nobody to trust (Nope), if niggas ain't one of us (Nah)
I see through the poker face, dawg, I'm callin' his bluff
I shine like a multifaceted gem in the rough
I'm passionate with every pen that I touch (Uh-huh)
It's like I wrote this shit in cursive (What else? Right)
God MC flow (Woo), nigga, these is Bible verses (God, yeah)
The feature fee won't include the hearses (No)
Same thing you gifted with is what you’ll be cursed with (What?)
Soul-searchin' 'til my flow's perfect, or I’m lyin’ in the morgue
Thinkin', "Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore" (Yeah, yeah, uh)

[Verse 3: WESTSIDE BOOGIE]
Who left the bricks on the floor? We too big on the boards, whoa
Smooth nigga off the bench, I'ma score
I could hit a million hoes that's legit, but I'm sure
They don't make 'em like my bitch anymore
Who let these kids in the door? You was 'posed to keep it closed
Now, they in here throwing stones and break the window to my soul
Ain't no remote chance in Hell I ever let 'em get control, ugh
I surf the 'Gram and see the wave you niggas rode
Go to the board for the lesson
I'll be transparent with you, just don't be projecting
Who taught you to be armed and use your guard as a weapon?
Who told you hit your shell every time you feel threatened?
You know that I been stressed, I smoked a quarter by afternoon
I walk with a attitude
I gave you niggas change and got no token of gratitude
Like, what I gotta do to make you tap in?
I might fuck around, start beefing with my rap friends
Fuck you, REASON

[Verse 4: Denzel Curry]
Before we roam, let me go back to the start
'Cause art imitates life, and life imitates art
Once we start to dive in this knowledge and this wisdom
They gon' always wanna box us in like it's cubism
Knew about Picasso before I was a snot-nose
Before I had a pot to piss in, and ‘fore a hot stove
Pressure is like walking across hot coal
I'm cooler than a North Face in Norway, Oslo
Everybody on this track is known to slay shit
JID gave me a reason to snap on Zay shit
Toy with my emotions, I am not one to play with
I'm rapping with these Top Dawgs to chill with my down bitch
That is no lie, I'm a nice guy and a wise guy
With a bright mind fresh out of Muay Thai
Don't like to beef with niggas 'cause they all pie
Only time they really caught a body was in Far Cry
Try to bring the Grammy to the crib, that's it
Why die to be a legend when I live that shit?
You could talk about my music, I don't give two shits
Because sooner or later, you gon' ride my dick
Icarus if I fall off, but I'ma soar
Like a sprained ankle when I landed on the floor
If you don't like the song, here's the exit door
'Cause they don't really make 'em like this anymore

[Verse 5: Jack Harlow & REASON]
Bitch, we've been bored, I wish we could tour
Girl, you need Christ, not Christian Dior
Why you keep tryn' take pics with me for?
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
A white boy broke her heart back in high school
Now she told me she ain't taking white dick anymore—
"Damn, are you sure?"
Cried when she don't get her way—
"Damn, are you four?"
Stole her heart, now I'm tryna slide in the getaway
The game chose me, baby, I didn't get a say
I done watched a lot of rappers rise and disintegrate
Paid attention to the styles I'm finna demonstrate
This is how you do it, man
World's getting too insane, turned a check into a chain
Tuggin' on her NuvaRing, we are not the same
If you fuckin' with my crew then you got the right brothers, like we flew a plane
Don't ask me about it, let your boo explain

[Verse 6: REASON]
Look, say she don't know REAS', that shit too insane
Old school, put my shorty on Biggie like Pootie Tang, do ya thang
Cap in all the raps, that shit won't stop
Rest in peace, Breonna Taylor, her killers, they should've knocked
Wait, Jack, I'm in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics
I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry
Talking real big wheel like Ferris, top, that's it from the greatest
Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON

[Outro: Isaiah Rashad, REASON, JID]
I take my licks in the storm, bitch, do me raw
Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'
Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
Yeah, I fuck my bitch when I'm bored, rich from the poor
Drunk, high, stumblin' off the shits and record
Video vixen, she copped her tits from the store, said
("Damn, they don't make 'em like this a—")