Audiopium - Nyck @ Knight, Joey Bada$$, Cj Fly

Sounds like another word

Yeah, Kirk, you gotta add your shit to this

Yeah, yo, my nigga, don’t even trip

I ain’t trippin'

You know we get the dollar slices for free

Yeah, too broke shit

Yeah, yeah, bankrolls ya bitch

Know what I’m saying?

We got them fiends round

All the way round the block twice, nigga

Yeah, yeah, yeah, let’s go (Pro Era!)

Beast Coast stunna 'bout to feast this summer

Brand new pies, got the pizza coming

This dough man don’t need no oven

My dope-heads they need that

Audiopium, audio

Audiopium, audio

Beast Coast stunna 'bout to feast this summer

Brand new pies, got the pizza coming

This dough man don’t need no oven

My dope-heads they need that

Audiopium, audio

Audiopium, audio

Yeah, I’m about to cop some more, it’s on me, got the guap I’m toured

And cops circle 'round the block, know it’s time for sure

(Ayo, keep that shit low nigga) Lock the door

This shit pop when I got the chord

And I need more money yeah, por favor

And I sell a ton can’t wait, hold some more

Serve bass, got loud, got more in store

If you ain’t do it like I do it, you ain’t popping boy

Rap, no pop, record

They got fiend by the back up cause, backing off

With the price of crack, that could crack your jaw

Then running with the packs like I pack them all

And we running like a pack of dogs, pack the floor

The pack blast heat leave 'em lacking thoughts

They can feel it in the streets so we tax 'em off

I gotta break up all my piece let 'em blast it off, audiopium

Beast Coast stunna 'bout to feast this summer

Brand new pies, got the pizza coming

This dough man don’t need no oven

My dope-heads they need that

Audiopium, audio

Audiopium, audio

Beast Coast stunna 'bout to feast this summer

Brand new pies, got the pizza coming

This dough man don’t need no oven

My dope-heads they need that

Audiopium, audio

Audiopium, audio

Still adding up my epiphanies

I shall abide to apply with all my abilities

Took all my alibis, bye for they lies

When they tryna belittle me, bid on me Guess you wanna see the bitter me Chilling with the don and yeah it’s war, put a hit on me You can smoke all you want

All you want bitch, just don’t fuck with my purp

I’m not finna work for no white man

Put that on my heart with my right hand

Latino heat, I do my dance

Watch the money roll like that’s my plan

I only hang with a gang full of leaders

I earned my stripes, pledge of allegiance

Fuck all my teachers, I’m hoping you see this

And everyone else that was non-believers

Sunshine and that knife in 47 shit, for forever, shit

You ain’t fucking with mine, whatever bitch

Whatever Nyck spit sounding like Beretta clips

It’s been a minute but the Era got it’s members together

I’m with the world, got that notice, STEEZ quick to the catch yeah

Want you back, remember what was missing from the game

Audiopium, I’ll probably be addicted forever, yeah

Audiopium

We keep the dope fiends itching

This that crack y’all been missing

Audiopium

Shoot this through your veins and take a trip and

R.I.P.

King Cap, you gave us vision

Audiopium

We keep the dope fiends itching

This that crack y’all been missing

Audiopium

Shoot this through your veins and take a trip and

R.I.P.

King Cap, you gave us vision

(Soul searchin') 'till my flows are perfect

I ain’t trynna be a slave to grow old from workin'

Sorry BADA$$, you lucky that I peeped it second

Tell them niggas keep it steppin' with they beat selection

Check the melodies, it’s so heavenly

That shit’ll get your hipster move with no 7D's

Audi-opium, can I bust soliloquies

Got that shit mix and mastered both remedies

Grab a spoonful, we servin' up a pot

And you know we gotta serve it while it’s hot

I’m flowin' like a volcano, I’m drippin' verses off the top

Dirty cops still swervin' on the block

Lookin' for black kids, that spittin' up acid

It’s in my jeans so don’t worry what my pants is Get with the script it’s that ignorant shit

And we bound to get sick of it quick and I ain’t sealin' my lips

It’s the shift, I know you feel it man

We blowin' up like a ceiling fan

Droppin' off jewels like Killa Cam’s man

When it comes to kickin' verses I’m Mr. Van Damme

Crushin' strawberry, it’s the jam

So throw up both hands if you can

Ironic how I’m killin' this shit, until they bury me My volume is going in depth with longevity

Stupid