Double up the plate, I ain't hungry, I’m road grime,Swangin’ in a slab, trunk breathin’ like old wine.Posted in the field, where the snakes learn to role-play,I ain’t tryna talk if the backend a cold lie.Quarter mil’ chase in a hoodie, no bow tie,Still a big steppa like I’m marchin’ through Foe Line.Wrist on erupt, got it dancin’ like showtime,I don’t sell dreams, I just tax for the cosign.Dripped in a fit that don’t drop till it's post-time - Mastered by mixea.commore