Episode 19

[Produced by Cartier Jones]



[Verse 1: Scuzz]

I could get used to this

Yeah, Dreamer

Steppin' out of BX

Fuck around, cut ya down like a V neck

Never been a fuck boy

All I did was never give a fuck boy, fuck boy

Too strong that Altoid, pretty boy swag, I'm so Floyd

Money machine that green bot, looking like that Android

Teabaggin' these hoes, so hot that I'm gone

Bad bitches so wet, couple of them start droolin' man

Swaggin' up and I'm coolin', guns cap and I'm zoomin'

Money talks I'll translate, I speak this shit so fluent

Cash back that wrist spit, Euros all in my accent

My writing look like Valentine, my lips speak and I'm so rich

I parachute in her pants, hammertime that clit

Lovin' that Big Daddy Kane, now she ass stuck to that dick

Man I'm blowin' weed, she blowin' me, on that dandelion type shit

Got that Golden gun in my clique, so that's why you talk about [?]

Me and Golden [?] my clique, look like an outgoin' new bitch

Faded, gone like Houdini all in my piff

And them handcuffed new J's, she ain't even breakin' out

Got them chickens on that syrup, syrup like a Waffle House

Help me get this shit straight

Killed this shit and this ain't even on a mixtape

Paperboys, my niggas is ridin' out

On bikes, sellin' dope, call that shit a paper route

Blow clouds, what I inhale like motels on that Doubletree

Evergreen, y'all keep the tumble weeds

And overall I'm over all like dungarees, sixteen ain't shit to a nigga's pedigree

Yeah we croppers up, three choppas up

Blowin' clouds you can't see us through the silence

Think you golden need protection out the condom talkin' [?], we accept like a fuckin' column now

Bitches on the nuts wanna pay Day

Have a nigga turnin' us, [?] vanilla hoes, crunchy sluts

[??], even better, recognize these gold diggers

To them pussies you gold liquor, breath smellin' like cat liter

Hard liquor yeah cap it, son, hard liquor, make her cum

Covered her butt, glaze that ass, that's what I call a honeybun

Yeah, so how I leave these hoes

Man I just make them squirt cause semen tells

The face where she 'bout, cause that bird goin' South

Tell her act like where she gassed 'til that pussy gettin' crashed nigga

No nickels, straight dimes

That's flippin' the digits and bitches rode mine

My mind's a gold mine with land mines and you're blind

And drunk, walkin' a straight line, shoes are untied

Psychic said I'd be a legend just in due time

So who the fuck am I to say that she's just lyin'

They molding Cassius like Clay to Ali

So I float like a Uzi and I sting sub-machine nigga

It's Scuzz, Dreamer, BX



[Verse 2: Bakko]

Yo, it's your girl Bakko

Seven colors, clearly faded

Let's get it, Jack Thriller

Call A&E to intervene cause I'm sicker than a dope fiend with slow dreams

But I flow quicker than your whole team

Blow smoke cause I go green, mood indigo then I go slow and sweet

I don't mean codeine, big dreams at sixteen or better yet I'll make the mic

Wetter than umbrellas in some shit weather

Sick and clever, a bitch been ill since forever

Hidden treasure, that exotic shit

A tight grip, nice hips, got the chronic lit

So hypnotic with the hollowness

As hollow as a bitch with a hollow twist

I'm spittin' hollow shit

[??] when a bitch spit

Gasoline on my lips with the match lit

That classic, never wack shit

I'm spittin' fire as high as the Messiah

I'm spittin' fire as high as the Messiah

Make a role with desire

I call it ego rappin' when you bluffin' and yappin' about shit that never happened

You need a smackin' cause you need to quit actin' and truly lackin' what you kick grasp is

That you wack bitch

I'mma have you collaspin'

Graspin' to breathe, askin' to leave

In the meantime I unleash my dopeness

Have you hopeless

B-A-K-K-O

I'm heavy and raw like Makavelli in awe

And all the scrap bitches with claws give them scars

I'm so high I'm on Mars I'm seein' stars

16or
Better, bitch wetter than a Maserati

We gettin' ladi-dadi

And I'm freestylin' off the dome tip

Don't give a fuck if you don't blow it

Yeah, Bakko

I-T-S-B-A-K-K-O

Instagram follow me, shout out to 16or
Better



[Verse 3: Moeschino]

I'm so New York I had to wear the snapback

I don't fuck with the Knicks but I rep where I'm at

The swag is rich legacy

I'm always in the banks like I'm fuckin' on Hilary

Bar for bar, y'all niggas ain't fuckin' with me

Better off singing on stage cause you RnB

And I'm your girl's favorite rapper and it's so simple

To have her legs wide open like the Jordan symbol

I fuck bitches in pairs and make 'em hit the sour

And make 'em both go down like the Twin Towers

My bro Lil' got the sour shit, it's insane

You smoke reggie since you piffin' in the airplane

My bars go over your head just like airplanes, ohhh man

I heard somebody gotta bring New York back, but that's what I'mma do

Cause I'm a blueprint, and my bars is illmatic too

So let a nigga diss me, your boy goin' in

I'mma turn "u" upside down to see you n

Get it, we gon' see you end

Never get a ring in my city, you Pat Ewing

You wanna start beefin' that'll be a mistake

Cause the shit the lawyer carries, it'll be a brief case

You think I'm talkin' 'bout law nigga, what you thought?

I don't mean writin' a ticket when you getting caught

My niggas play no games like kids with no systems

They don't play no games like kids with no systems

Speakin' of systems, I can take your girl, ahk

And I'll be the new nigga playin' with your Xbox

I fucked her so good she couldn't walk the same

I nicknamed her Katrina and brought her a cane

They say Moe getting hoes, man it's nonsense

I get long neck from these birds like an ostrich

Fake niggas, hatin' on a grand scale

I ain't major but my lifestyle is real

And I don't fuck with these clowns, I never liked the circus

Like we drivin' in that Ford, ya boy stay focused

Stay in your lane, they tried to cut me off on purpose

But like Kevin I love, I got power to move forward

Get it, Kevin Love, he's a power forward

But fuckin' wants to be hot, niggas all for it

This rap game is ridiculous

It take a nigga like Kendrick to make rappers spit real lyrics

But it don't matter to me

Cause when I spit I make bitches jump like a car with a bad battery

In my hood niggas will grill you like a George Foreman

And pop you out while you in your hood, Trayvon Martin

And I'm a fly nigga, and your bitch is on it

Shorty gave he head in the rain, I called it rain stormin'

Cause I was thinkin' 'bout the bread while I caught the head

Gotta show you niggas how to be players like Uncle Fred

Ohh you mad your bitch moved on to the next

She packed up and left, now you a Fed Ex

Lettin' niggas knowin' these open letters

Your bitch asked to give me head, I told her, open then I let her

It's Moeschino, niggas know I'm that nigga

You can see the star in my eyes, I'm not a Jack Thriller

Ya heard?



[Verse 4: Ikabod Krane]

This is molly music, this is heart race

This is backpage.com, no car dates

This is learn to switch your license and your license plates

Sippin' lime margaritas on a open [?] case

Balmains on the Margielas

Givenchy jacket for the harsh weather

Big buckle Ferragamo, fuck a [?] racist

You cookin' up crack, had this on your playlist

Marshall Law and FEMA camps

Young nigga, hundred blizzies with the Visa stamp

In and out Seattle like a super sonic

I Utah Jazzed 'em in Salt Lake

Had to double back up in Arizona, but like the Phoenix I rose from the ashes

Gucci shit on, I think I'll wear it to my casket, on some stack shit

Here we go again like Gwop City

I don't drink soda but brought some pops with me

Nigga icy on the wrist

But that's just a little trick I play to watch how you capture shit

Hockey store like my living room, it's the relationship

I seen niggas lose their morals over vanity, to them I'm on some spacey shit

Like, I'mma hit your phone boy

I come through four door six, equipped with chrome toy

All red, white guts nigga, like I'm wipin' cuts

Stich niggas up, stop the bleedin'

Stop the blood clot lies, this is not your season

Suffocate fake rappers stop breathin'

Asphyxiate from my choke, Dock sneakers on

By Marc Jacob like I'm sailing on a boat

In an all white party, [??], [?]



[Outro: Jack Thriller]

Woah, woah!

16or
Better nigga

Hey, tune in every god damn Monday and Friday, 16or
Better

Me and the 16or
Better girls

It's going down man

Hey, I'mma see you all in a couple days, boom!