(30 For 30)

The motherfuckin' masterpiece manufacturer,
Still smashin' back to back beats like a bachelor.
Last of the rule breakers, psychos and screwfacers,
We either headline the show or the Newspapers.
Few majors lookin' at him, bruh, don't look at Adam,
Look how long it's been, if you wanted him, you would've had him.
Glad I'm label free, they ain't gotta pay for me,
I been on the rise with no machine since Terminator 3.
A & T the nicest out, switchblade slice your scalp,
Think I'm sorry til I go the Bryson route,
Twice the clout of any critic, quit living your miserable life in doubt,
And give your wife a shout, she know what all the hype's about.
The Going Price from now will skyrocket, tri-optic,
Ironic when they find a bullet in your eye socket - blow -
Like 'watch it', this is just a preview,
10 shots will turn your whole head top see-through.
The streets knew what was happenin' ,
Rappin' when crack was in the Pits and I would mix rum with jack and gin.
Started tracking hits and I got hit with traffickin',
Half the fam in prison or the kitchen like Gaffigan.
That was then, this forever, stuck at 5th or better,
Y'aint official no more, youre fucking Dick Bavetta.
Instead of running the game you let your mouth run,
Now you ain't got the muscle it takes to switch the outcome.
From Round One I had the fight in the bag,
They're quick to talk, I pick a spot, stick a knife in and drag.
Let 'em spill their guts since they're the type that'll brag,
Double the bloodshed like I hit it twice on the rag.
I'll snag a bitch that spread it like it's the plague,
And holds her calves in the air and keeps it open like Madison Square, yeah.
30 for 30 we're the players to watch,
Go ahead and ball all you want you're still taking a loss.
It's Legend.

(30 For 30)


(T-Gramz)
Money on the dresser, drop the compressor,
Top notch hoes get the most not the lesser.
Game's under pressure and I'm next like I'm Butter Love,
It's Doctor Gramz, tools on the pan, snap on the rubber glove.
Revive it back, scream 'Clear' til the line's beeping,
Sign, speak in codes, time frozen from a crime leaking.
I keep a dime piece, a chicken breast and thick thighs,
Flip fries trying to get by.
For the squad it's dodge why we never switch sides,
The whole click pack the hooptie if the whip drive.
Wet it up if the strip dry, heat, pop n fish fry
T-Dot where mans move sicker than a shit fly.
Skip by your whole tape, shit was trash-made.
Now I use it for my ashtray.
Fast play slow runners is a fumble where I'm from,
Gotta eat, what you expect when you come from the jungle?
I bag a baddie like she stole from me,
Soul gummy Air Max, Go for money never chose honey.
Snow bunnies with the cat-eyes,
She getting bread plus she wettin' up my head like I'm getting baptized.
Spit crack these T-Gramz, Adam Bomb,
With sticks that'll skip from behind like a tag along.
I'll bag your mom and make her feel young,
Nut on her face cuz she made a mistake and had a weird son.
I fear none and I trust not a damn soul,
Kangol feel I've been in places that you can't go.
I got mad skills without the Wrap-Up,
Which means my shit raw, overproof rum get you yakked up.
I love this city cuz it's dirty but it's purty,
ESPN episode 30 for 30
It's Gramz.