They looking at me to carry a baton like carrying on a stanza, wasn't really aiming, I happened to take a gander, caught it now and now they calling it casualties of the banter, if I'm talking out the side my neck, I'm all cancer, I'm Charles Lee Ray on the break looking for Santas, who would've thought a murder could be an extravaganza, Tryna move Eddie Caputo up on a mantle, and lead Andy out on the break to play the example, talk about a baton, that's the passing of the guard, my corner crowded with Gods like I'm passing the Quran, I'm passing thru with the word and car note for a scarf, I'm part Yves Saint Laurent and part Panther, gave 'em residue like base, lost steps, I heard beats and caught bodies, you caught breaths, I'm part Vera and part Tech, part brownstones, part 'Jects, and nah I'll never be Nets, I grew up where shit's less cautious, more Cassius, know the corner store so well I can walk backwards, where going OT on the start is in small factions, they throw the rock all thru the Fort like Mark Jackson, this rap shit turned into horse and soft practice, my dress code will get me fined, more blackness, 16's I'm less Curry, more Westbrook, so staying 30 feet out the lane is all ad-libs, and all the WCW's that you screenshot, got the front door to my building like a supreme drop, treat me like the Lord I double 'em like a restock, strung 'em underground and now they looking for Cheif Rock, and really these ain't lines, it's throwing diesel, pedestal high enough to clothesline eagles, sympathy aside y'all will go in the trunk, my bio is Riley Freeman meets Thelonious Monk, and now they call me old school, they said the same to Andre, flow all keys and it's 88 like a Steinway, until their top 5 is applauding me like a stronjay, it get a lil Wilder to reach, I'm Deontay, It ain't hard to tell because there's nothing to tell, my rep did all of the talking, it's a wonderful braille, and whether we talking pens or we get to talking limbs, we still talking how I'm a walking XXL, 12 years of valedictorians under my belt, let the plug know he lucky I ain't jump on a scale, this is more or less battery acid on a notes app, looking for your fave, you follow him where the smoke's at, Henny on the steering wheel, playing with the law, it turned into grey bottoms on stage at the awards, just in case y'all was lost I'm the face in the Forbes, ghostwriting is everything they claimed that it was, I'm straight
supported by 176 fans who also own “On The Stretch & Bob Show”
As soon as I heard the song Like Really I just had to buy the album. Then I finished listening to all the songs, and knew I made a good choice. Oddisee is one of the best hip hop artists on bandcamp. Devin Anderson
