The Burn Notice

The 7-1-8 flag carrier

Barely accounting the passing since my classic

And since I classed in, they're using me to give 'em a class sense

And I don't even remember what class is

To each one his own

I'm John Wall, the money leading my road

I sign before I signed, get my sneakers and go

So if the come and go, the bottom line is a tuck and roll

Try'na hide something in the broad's underclothes

Lyrically sitting me in between 1 and 4

Possibly the 5th but I'm out of reach from the 6 and on

Like get 'em I'm gone, still on my pen strike

The author or Brad Jordan, so know what my pen's like

The Kanye of Duck Down, Sean Corey of JAMLA

Corner store with the grammar, y'all applaudin' the banter

All in all with the stanzas, the literature smack

The tape comes with a rope, you can calligraphy that

Far as rap go, rap go

In and out of leagues

We don't rap close

None of that is similar to me

And if we that close

That rope don't abide to me

Play the back bro

Bodied if you get a bunch of speed, I mean

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

Stupid niggas try'na rap need to read books

You think hijack means getting your weed took

Fuck all that shit you talkin' 'bout, your whole team crooks

You got a couple niggas on your team with that fiend look (Ew!)

Jaw shaking all crazy, y'all playin' gon' make me angry

Y'all gon' lay in the morgue, Tracy

Plus y'all lazy with your bars lately

I'm raising the bar, raising all hell

Somebody should call Satan

Tell him a monster done stole his whole crib

And he 'bout to drop it off at your crib

I give 'em HELL

You wouldn't raise hell if hell was your kid

stepped on dog shit, this nigga frail!

We done passed that stage and the click blaow!

On that stint, you tried to cop pleas, you Chris Brown!

Lying 'bout you palm the Mag, please stop it

Treat yourself to one of them shards of glass freeze pops

Far as rap go, rap go

In and out of leagues

We don't rap close

None of that is similar to me

And if we that close

That rope don't abide to me

Play the back bro

Bodied if you get a bunch of speed, I mean

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

5, 4, 3, 2, start a pistol blast off

No proctologist, Ruck is rapping his ass off

Niggas lost like the Tribe of Shabazz

Find 'em with a verse that'll surprise their ass

Wizard of wordplay, all my phrases rock shit

Brownsville, still smoke haze and chocolate

Fuck a fair one, I don't get paid to box, bitch

Gang leader, say shoot, your ass get shot which

Ran the team, futuristic laser the beam

Heat spit, street shit have me way off my Dīn

Writing a rhyme, should be studying my Qur'an

Like when I rhyme even though the shit is Haraam

Dropping a bomb, nickname Napalm Sean

Stick to your skin, big gun raised in my arm

Breaking his arm, listen to this shit with your mom

I would've said your pops but the nigga is gone

P!

Far as rap go, rap go

In and out of leagues

We don't rap close

None of that is similar to me

And if we that close

That rope don't abide to me

Play the back bro

Bodied if you get a bunch of speed, I mean

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah

I burn something, I burn something, yeah