EL TORO COMBO MEAL

Man

Lost my dawg to the staircase, took the highest spot on the podium

Ghostin' niggas, probably smokin' to the thought of knowin' us

They loss a part of growin' up

Spurned us, learned I had to keep a wedge to get out of the rough

Fuses clipped for nuisance, disrespect 'cause we carried enough

I promised I'd bury the grudge, preparing the carrion grub

Larry Oops, I was lost in the alley, in the air but not sunk

I spun 'til the lost of my grandmama buried the dunk

Send 'bout a prayer a month, through the above

Niggas moody but imbued with the funk

Better shit to do than play with food

The rhyming Rubik's for fun

But I do what I want, ayy

And I rue what it was later, a looter as such

Confusingly up with paper

I'm shootin' ones with the judge if he sentence my brother

Been with him, muzzled us from the cradle

So we goin' to the grave with this shit

If we join the second line

The ancestors'll hand us a drum to load the second time

Somethin' scary 'bout airin' out the shit I compressed

The fare gettin' fairer now, the cost is

An arm, leg, an arm, leg, and a head

In all bread, the conquest for text, I'm pawnin' the rest

My Bompton partner spawn when donning the red

I'm all on they neck 'til my car park is pardoning French

Spar with a few niggas, sparkin' at the larger percentage

What's alternate when the losses come as often as wins?

And imposter clique thick

Don't got a job, I only ball off pick-six

I'm fraught with friction, in July, we had shit lit as Christmas

Hollins been sensed niggas been lyin', but we ain't gon' mention

Boo hit the stu' and started sweating', told her this the kitchen

You knew the rules

And we knew how to shoot the loopholes, jugo, beaucoup loot

And my kin and 'nem got the cannon, you gon' juke or boogaloo?

I been spinnin' around the answer

Non-definitive, I just crammed it

Outward gifted, inward feel damned

I took my lumps, my bruises, grooves

What the fuck are you to do?






Every time a nigga didn't spot me

I had to figure out my own thing

Now we at the precipice droppin'

Harry Potter with the Dub-D's

Magic hands, nigga, what cheese?

Had a chance, didn't crush me

We gon' get it by all means

Rest in peace to my Ras G

Raw Fruit in the box, seeds

Let go, then I got wings

I'm seein' red, I'ma charge

You seein' red 'cause you salty

I keep the tears out my mind reach

I put my fears in a box like a prayer that you won't read

Spirited Away the whole thing

Peerin' away, I won't leave

See you starin' into old beefs

Ticket booths where they told me

Thickest thorns on the roses

Pistons roarin' like I'm Rasheed

Pistons roarin' like I'm Ben Wallace

Pistons roarin' like Chauncey

Fill up somethin' 'cause I been drivin'

Every time a nigga didn't spot me

I had to figure out my own thing

Now we at the precipice droppin'