[Intro] Kravva, zindle, brakka—clear the lane Supreme in the cipher, remember the name [Verse 1] I kick in with a brassjaw under a rain-black coat Pocket full of static, iron dust in my throat Tin throne at the doorway, crooked but it stays When the roof starts shaking, I conduct the blaze Seven masked wobnaks keep the hinges locked tight They trade in broken runes under a flickering light Call it grint, call it flibber, call it thunder-slang Every paper crown crumbles when the iron rafters bang My cracked crown catches fire from the debts I never paid Built a crooked little kingdom in the wreckage I arranged Bring your polished parade, your handbook, and your plan I arrive with seven syllables and redraw the land [Hook] I'm the supreme motherfucker, top of the whole stack Krumble in my left hand, zibble on my back No need for your old words, we erased that slang I say blabba-blow—and the whole block bangs Supreme motherfucker, say it loud, say it strange Gravva on the table, let the furniture change Everybody knows when the bassline lands: I'm the supreme motherfucker with the nonsense brands [Verse 2] I keep a velvet hazard in a suitcase made of tin Chrome-toothed little yip with a zipper on its grin Nobody can name it, that's the point and that's the art It makes a loudmouth lose his place before he gets a start Seven figures circle, then the seven turn to more They stamp strange little emblems on the hinges of the door We don't need a trophy case, we archive the signs Leave invented thunder curling through the crooked lines I wear a heavy silence like a jacket in the heat Tell the doubters take the long way, move their feet No permission slips, no blessing from the squad I turn a broken landing to a private house of odds [Bridge] Hush now—hear the floorboards answer Vex-vex, zorro-zan, ritual dancer All that old talk fades when the symbols expand I built a new dictionary with a fistful of sand [Hook] I'm the supreme motherfucker, top of the whole stack Krumble in my left hand, zibble on my back No need for your old words, we erased that slang I say blabba-blow—and the whole block bangs Supreme motherfucker, say it loud, say it strange Gravva on the table, let the furniture change Everybody knows when the bassline lands: I'm the supreme motherfucker with the nonsense brands [Outro] Kravva, zindle, blorple, brakka Crown in the dust but the posture stays proper No old names, no old game, no borrowed command Supreme from the syllable to the last raised hand
