Sleepy Nicks Interlude by K. Stone Lyrics
[Verse 1: K. Stone]
Don't compare me to no other fucks on the mic
Cuz I'll make it rain like bucks on a dyke
Like trucks in the night, I pull my weight
Like schmucks with a knife, I can't cull my hate
So many sub par bars, it's just catch and release
Extend an olive branch, you won't match my piece
You can catch me down at the central station
Writin' dope rhymes in my mental nation
So many rappers like some rental Asians
Spittin' nothin' that needs ventilation
Just the same grease, over the same beats
How can you be the best if you're the same, please
How can you flow like god's son when you're what god shun
Y'all should be holier and I got god's gun
What's a tick to king cuz it's not competition
Y'all say you eatin' but I can see malnutrition
The controllers munition's stacked to the roof
The high roller's position's backed by the proof
Like bipolar physicians y'all smacked on the spoof
All the bruises I caused, gotta get you a makeover
I ethered you all now my boi'll takeover
[Verse 2: Sleepy Nick]
The wind blows and your wig goes, striking a corny pose
Trying to impress nonexistent hoes
Can’t hide that I stepped on your toes and it shows I suppose Graphical stats isn’t enough to show you the smacks and daps
I’ve laced on previous tracks
Spit facts start hacks to produce stacks skull cracks when I unload mac’s
Drop you with a suplex through a duplex and Say who’s next
Cut checks like I cut necks inspect your decks the my clan wrecks with 9 tech’s, your attack reverses when we’re versus
Place your clique in hearses when I write my verses like a witch crafts curses
Tik tok, running out of time, impatient Glock 9
For penny and dime I squeeze mine, the chrome shine
Blast you blind, your body harder to find
Spit the same heat as the stove top that cook crack rock dope as the dope spot
Where your squad cop but soon drop when the gun pop
Don't compare me to no other fucks on the mic
Cuz I'll make it rain like bucks on a dyke
Like trucks in the night, I pull my weight
Like schmucks with a knife, I can't cull my hate
So many sub par bars, it's just catch and release
Extend an olive branch, you won't match my piece
You can catch me down at the central station
Writin' dope rhymes in my mental nation
So many rappers like some rental Asians
Spittin' nothin' that needs ventilation
Just the same grease, over the same beats
How can you be the best if you're the same, please
How can you flow like god's son when you're what god shun
Y'all should be holier and I got god's gun
What's a tick to king cuz it's not competition
Y'all say you eatin' but I can see malnutrition
The controllers munition's stacked to the roof
The high roller's position's backed by the proof
Like bipolar physicians y'all smacked on the spoof
All the bruises I caused, gotta get you a makeover
I ethered you all now my boi'll takeover
[Verse 2: Sleepy Nick]
The wind blows and your wig goes, striking a corny pose
Trying to impress nonexistent hoes
Can’t hide that I stepped on your toes and it shows I suppose Graphical stats isn’t enough to show you the smacks and daps
I’ve laced on previous tracks
Spit facts start hacks to produce stacks skull cracks when I unload mac’s
Drop you with a suplex through a duplex and Say who’s next
Cut checks like I cut necks inspect your decks the my clan wrecks with 9 tech’s, your attack reverses when we’re versus
Place your clique in hearses when I write my verses like a witch crafts curses
Tik tok, running out of time, impatient Glock 9
For penny and dime I squeeze mine, the chrome shine
Blast you blind, your body harder to find
Spit the same heat as the stove top that cook crack rock dope as the dope spot
Where your squad cop but soon drop when the gun pop