Eastern Conference All-Stars

Understandable smooth shit to jump off the stoop with

Know I kick in my two cents, it's duffles and toothpicks

To give you 16 feels like if a pound flew in

Competition nutso? Let's GPS where the roof is

Yea, the same flow came out the hallway with me

I put 95 on my back like I'm DeAndre Bembry

It's like I'm Illmatic sitting on loop

Meets Mortal Kombat finishing moves

You seen what the Genesis do

And the endings is Jordan-esque or whichever way that the play goes

Cause six joints will get you whatever, I came as Thanos

I threw you jewels with an NYCHA flow

Blue and orange signs like I was on Dolan's payrol

Malcolm X Air Raid Nikes, by the caseload

But still good to fuck with a Becky like John Stamos

Taught to know that the rule of thumb was innuendos

And to slay the Box but to make love to instrumentals, do the math

I spent more on the baggies than what they spent on the yola

Off a plate got rid of weight just like I'm Marsha Ambrosius

My bitch caught a job to shop and take up yoga

The strap on the heckler, I'm Koch made out of cobra

You know Benny stuff them 12 12 skinny's until it's over

Strip ladies, still was stingy just like I'm Tommy Mottola

Nobody rhymin' dominant, honest probably since Hova

Crown me kindly, I'm known as the Blueprint finally decoded

Proud to be noticed, watch me, all this grinding got me promoted

We click statues, poverty molded

I got rich with the Pyrex turn the forks around it

Then retired and got richer just talkin' 'bout it

I'm still smoking on the rawest Sour

Open the trap, close that, then the count the racks up after office hours

Fans want classics and suckas walk past us

Hustlers don't want much, just comfortable traffic

All these rap niggas get as comfortable caskets

No subliminals, I'm shootin' hunting bow accurate

Let's go, who run this city the most

Me and Sky shot up the club like Diddy and Po

I be at your front door if it really was smoke

Every hustler who seen a brick say Benny The G.O.A.T.

Everybody talkin' that who's the best shit, all of y'all could stop it

For two years, I recorded the hardest shit that's rockin'

Verse of the year on like all the shit I jotted

I raised the bar then I linked with Marshall in the process

I weigh the raw, I link from Baltimore to Compton

It ain't no ice, leave that cold water on the locket

Yeah, now it's Audemars the watches

Fifty pointers, like Harden for the rockets

Silencer on the real, got it muffled to see

Popped a nigga in his side and broke a couple of ribs

Sky, I was broke when we shot that "Luxury" vid

Now I'm on I.G. showin' bitches what luxury is

Aw yeah, I made it clear, they can't fuck with the kid

I d'ed shorty that played Faith, 'cause I just did it "Big"

Griselda Records, I'm the muscle, you dig?

I don't tussle, I let my gun touch you , you dig? It's the Machine, bitch

I can see clear throughout the universe, the quasars and soon a verse

Through multiple suns, moons, the Earths

I rhyme exquisite and shut your city down, to the West, I'm a blizzard

On the East, I'm a Kamikaze pilot visit

Who said the kid in the Byzantine who envisioned green

Isn't mean as a prison scene and don't keep their division clean

I spit that hot tamale, wasabi mixture, that's a Rob Zombie picture

Stop playing checkers with Bobby Fisher

And just embrace it, I made it to the top floor out the basement, blew your advance on a bracelet

Pick a line I write, it's not as wicked as a sick piranha bite

A brick of China white, lit wick on a stick of dynamite a quick reminder might

Show you niggas with a slick persona, I come through your chick's pajamas and dick ya mama right

Either the flow's acid, or a trigger finger to expose plastic

Leave it closed casket with a rose basket

Ayo, my first love was a Mac-10

I caught a handful, I had three bodies back then

Little snot nosed nigga, takin' niggas chains off

Dope so thick, I had to hit it with a chainsaw

Astin Martin with the snake seats

In the kitchen for a different stove fish waist deep

Yankee blue tops, twenty dollars get you three of 'em

Paul made the sweat suit be leanin' with the thing on 'em

Ayo, Versace on the goalie, told my teacher fuck you, I'm in class in a Rollie

Stacked a hundred thousand, that was back in 2000

Sold a dummy brick, hurry up nigga, count it

I need the Cherry Mayback, ASAP, and then counseling

Plug thirty fiends at the Raddison, got 'em dirt cheap

Three states we had to travel in, make it back safe

Forty each, I was abdomen, break one down

Everything off the mannequin