Prophecy

I’m back on this microphone

Y’all don’t even understand what kind of life I’m on

Walking through the valley with my Nikes on

Prophecy - I had to go and get my psyche on

Damn that nigga TUT and K be making songs

I remember making plays inside of vacant homes

Make the wrong turn you might not make it home

I’m trying to make a million dollars, it won’t take me long

I’ve been looking for truth, not sure if I’ll ever find it

Sleep with the enemy and kill her at the top of a climax

Flee to a different climate, I’m shining like freshly polished

Silver ware at the diner, breaking out the good china

I’m as fresh as my line up, working from Monday to Sunday

Feed the team like a coach at CiCi’s pizza on Monday

Swipe your visa Lord Jesus so y’all can pay some attention

I’ve been pimpin' since Pippen these hoes just made it a business

Y’all done made me the villain, call me TUT the Joker

Made your lady my baby, rolled her around in my stroller

Getting neck like a shoulder, I’m bout my paper like folders

Sell that weed like a dominoes, “Hi can I take your order”

Unknown numbers, I do not pick up, that there is a stick up

Pick up yo' bitch with no pick up line, she call and I don’t pick up

Hands in the air this a stick up, bitch we ain’t playin that

We ain’t asking no questions, dog we just making a statement, uh

I’m back on this microphone

Y’all don’t even understand what kind of life I’m on

Walking through the valley with my Nikes on

Prophecy - I had to go and get my psyche on

Damn that nigga TUT and K be making songs

I remember making plays inside of vacant homes

Make the wrong turn you might not make it home

I’m trying to make a million dollars, it won’t take me long

The truth is what you hoping to find

It’s hocus pocus, so instead we try to focus this grind

You start to see the smoke and mirrors when you open your mind

I want them hooked on these bars, I put some dope in these lines

I put some drug in your ear, I hope I’m coming in clear

See it ain’t even hard to tell who sit and running it here

They call me big papi mami, ain’t no bunting in here

You know like y’all want the answer like we talking ‘bout practice

She got that wet pack they say my name John the Baptist

The homies is local, I said that I want the atlas

You know the axis to axis, I put them ashes to ashes

We puff and pass it, putting sound waves in a casket

Like every track could be classic, been gettin' gettin' them buckets

I try to kill them with kindness but they just stay on that fuck shit

I sit and chill at the brunch and keep trying to function

She gets baked and gives them buns up like they fresh out the oven, ah

I’m back on this microphone

Y’all don’t even understand what kind of life I’m on

Walking through the valley with my Nikes on

Prophecy - I had to go and get my psyche on

Damn that nigga TUT and K be making songs

I remember making plays inside of vacant homes

Make the wrong turn you might not make it home

I’m trying to make a million dollars, it won’t take me long