Train Of Thought - AMG, Conscience

Now let me take you for a ride in my train of thought

One time for your mind, 'cause my brain is lost

I’m insane when I rhyme, lines razor-sharp

So stay away from the mic, or I’ll fillet you, dawg

Nowadays, rappers say the same things in songs

«Gold chains, weed ablaze, chase babes, and cars»

Do your thing, but I can’t relate to y’all

'Cause I only chase broads with serrated saws

And only thing I’ll set ablaze is your grandma

And use a chain to restrain the dame to the damn wall

And I drive a white van with a mask on

In that case, I do relate to your stupid-ass song

I’m not one to take a nap on;

keep your lamp on

Or I’ll sneak in through your backyard into your pad, dawg

Kill your mom, sister, dad, all y’all and your damn dog

Better build a rampart if you don’t listen to my rap songs

Let’s be honest, my bars are the bomb, man

Got feds watching the shit that I spit

Thinking my mind is connected to ISIS

But I’ll stand behind my bars like I’m already a convict

So when you hear my voice

Turn it up, I deliver like a pizza boy

I’m authentic, I’m the motherfucking real McCoy

Put my shit on repeat, and keep repeating like Marina Joyce

Just take notice that I’m making motions

Like a train, but with way more loco motives

Rose up from a broken home with

No one but my chode and lotion

I’ll take the mic you’re holding

From right under your nose, man

And set alight the whole damn crowd below me

Cause my flows explosive

You know the kid who used to write poems

At school, in class, who couldn’t focus

And a heart so cold, it grew frozen

Had a gift that no one had noticed

Cause nobody seemed to know him

And every word he said was unspoken

They were written in a notepad

But now you hear it through your headphone jack

And now, people wanna say they know me

Oh, now foes wanna claim we’re homies

Now you stuck-up bitches wanna bone me

«Bros» turned phony, hoes just horny

It’s funny, things changed when I started rhyming

Chicks doing what I say, but my name ain’t even Simon

Step into the game, make a motherfucker time out

If you tryna play with me, better put the time in

What is there to say, I like runnin my mouth

I’ma put a couple miles in

Man, if I were you, I’d lock my child up, confined in solitude

'Cause I’ll light the kid on fire and invite you to the barbecue

You better listen now, motherfuckers, or I promise you

You’re gonna come to find he’s on the news or on a noose

If he jamming to my music, I’ll give him bad habits

I’m a bad influence

Simple bitch-slapping, open fire on a school shit

When it comes to rapping, possibilities are numerous

I raise the motherfucking bar along with hell, so, don’t step to me, rook

I’m leaving rappers impaled with my deadly hooks

Desiigner, Uzi, Meek Mill be especially shook!

'Cause XXL just a recipe book