You want complex? Keep it, I like blunt force truth, I speak it Four-syllable schemes for tweakers, I’m tryna make the weak feel weaker I want one phrase, one blade, straight through the rib cage You counting vowels in your notepad? I’m counting hours that I won’t get back You study patterns like a crossword fiend, then brag about a line that don’t mean a thing You flex tongue-twists, I’m bored stiff, you built a house of words, I swing forklifts You chase clever, I chase better, you chase structure, I break letters You stack the words, I cut the excess, every bar gets straight to the message You make it dense, I make it matter, keep the rhythm tight, make the point land faster You count the syllables, I count the seconds, you polish patterns, I test the sentence If the meaning disappears beneath the technique, then all that work is missing what I seek All that complex rhyme shit? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED All that “look at my cadence”? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED If it don’t cut deep, then it’s dressed-up fluff You can keep your little puzzles, they can all stay stuck GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED If it don’t hit gut, then it’s just bad luck Every empty fancy pattern? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED You stack syllables high like Jenga, one weak pull and the whole thing tumbles You love “intricate inner intersections,” cool story, what’s the message you’re projecting? You sound like a textbook choking on its own footnotes, over-quoted Who you trying to impress, a thesaurus? Meanwhile life outside still ignores us I want one bar, crash car, dashboard glass like a cracked-star scar I want one hook, one look, make a grown man shake, make his hands uncrook You treat rap like math class homework, I treat rap like last words spoken If the line don’t live when the beat cuts off, then the rhyme scheme died in a weak cough You chase the pattern, I chase the purpose, every clever phrase better earn its surface You build the sentence, I test the pressure, if it means nothing, what makes it better? Quick with the rhythm, clear with the message, every word placed where the beat can catch it No need to bury the point in layers, say what you mean and make the listener face it All that complex rhyme shit? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED All that “look at my cadence”? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED If it don’t bruise pride, then it’s dressed-up fluff You can frame your little patterns, they still won’t cut GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED If it ain’t real talk, it’s a failed stunt Every dead clever couplet? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED Write clean, write mean, say one hard thing Make the whole room lean, make the whole beat swing You want praise? Cool, chase that buzz I want silence, then a “damn” That’s enough Cut the filler, keep the message Trim the extras, keep the pressure One sharp line, one clear statement Make it land without explanation All that complex rhyme shit? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED All that “watch my scheme switch”? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED If it don’t change minds, then it’s rusted junk You can worship empty patterns, I’ma call that bluff GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED If it ain’t blood truth, it’s a stage prop stunt Every hollow fancy verse? GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED Keep the rhythm quick, keep every word clear Let the bass hit hard, let the message stay here No buried meaning, no puzzle to unlock If the line don’t hit, GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED GET ALL THE WAY FUCKED
