2020 Intro - Marlon Craft

Fuck all that patient shit, they wan' argue

I ain’t take the bait for shit, this ain’t art school

Fuck your lil' high-brow critique

Before I bow to feet, ain’t walked down my street

Never been the «that's the way it is» type of dude

Fuck that, I’mma tell you how it is, type of mood

Bust that, type of moves light the fuse to bring light

To that type of bruise so deep under that people scared

We can only feel it, but we can’t see it

Lot' these dudes only type it, they can’t be it

Champion any man, region, fuck what cam be in

Can’t beat them when they can’t see them

On that freedom man being

Yeah, and I barely

But trust that I beat Diddy on any care lingo

Keep with me, many dare to think so bright

But the blood of fakes though and it’s very rare the ink glow

But honestly fuck a rap compliment

What the fuck’s a ball to a prophet, bitch?

What the fuck’s a threat to the option-less?

I need this shit to breathe and I gots to live

Yeah, thing the time is yours, 'cause online is yours

That’s what you grindin' for?

Watch when we cut the net, like the final four

I bet you don’t got the chest to back that lion’s roar, pussy

Yeah, push me, I promise

I’m used to stress, all I could be is honest

I used to fret that I couldn’t even keep conscious

Thanks to my weakness, I could be the strongest out

Situation game critical

Stop playing with me this year y’all, I tried to tell y’all

I’m not playin' no fuckin' games this year

Don’t look at me no type of way

Don’t fuckin' s- fuckin' subtweet me, whatever you wan' do

Don’t do shit this year, look

I’m no stranger to anger and rage

Getting aimed at my head by a lame

'Cause they name got some fame, but they so insecure

That they keep themselves locked away

And I get to be the real me all up in their proximity

Who the one that got you stressed, lil' me?

Stop throwin' stones 'fore you get the boot for the Sicily

I make the jazz cats listen to raps

I make the hood kids listen to sax

I make the white dudes understand which straws they pull out they ass

I got err’body givin' me dap

Craft never speak to just one ol' faction

That picture’s incomplete, that’s a demo-graphic

Yes, the whole team’s 'boutta be N-O backwards

Won’t stop 'til the whole scene accept no actors

The music on the

bring me power, word to 50

If I’m the chosen one, it’s only 'cause I picked me

Let a label manager or agent try to Taylor Swift me

I’ll have a custom grave tailored swiftly, you dig me?