(Who? Talkin' to, talkin' to
Who is it? Who is it, who is it?
Talkin' to, talkin' to
Talkin' to, talkin' to, who is it?)
Yeah, I'm talkin' to you!
Freeze, give it up, mm
Geeze, that's enough
Breathe, lil bit of ooh
Sleaze, you're in my
Streets, rollin' up my
Trees, you got no
Steeze, run along bitch
Leave! Yeah, I'm talkin' to you
Freeze, give it up, mm
Geeze, that's enough
Breathe, lil bit of ooh
Sleaze, you're in my
Streets, rollin' up my
Trees, you got no
Steeze, run along bitch
Leave, yeah, I'm talkin' to you
Greetings ladies and gentlemen my name is Ez Mil
I'm fairly new to the game but I came to eat and kill
Hope you don't think I'm insane cuz man I'm pretty chill
So lemme drink this propane and down these sleeping pills
Yeah
Intoxication rules this hypocritic-nation
What's a truer helping agent?
Than this media that's got us playin'
Got us wastin' our lives on
Superficial shit. Kinda like:
"I know I still don't got the budget for the groupie videos
Where the booties are all shakin' from these stupid lil hoes"
I've been tryna send a message to a cupid on the low
Prayin': "Please, give me a bad bitch that can truly be my own!"
Yeah, scrollin' through the ways that the industry's tryna soak
Through subconscious orchestration then they shove it down your throat
Cultural manipulation's how they run it through the globe
And they aim at all the brain-dead mothafuckaz and you know...
That it's you
Freeze, give it up, mm
Geeze, that's enough
Breathe, lil bit of ooh
Sleaze, you're in my
Streets, rollin' up my
Trees, you got no
Steeze, run along bitch
Leave! Yeah, I'm talkin' to you
Freeze, give it up, mm
Geeze, that's enough
Breathe, lil bit of ooh
Sleaze, you're in my
Streets, rollin' up my
Trees, you got no
Steeze, run along bitch
Leave, yeah, I'm talkin' bout:
Swiveling through my blind phase
I'm cripple and new as I change
The sickening news that rhyme's lame
They picky and choose so I hate
Hate, hate, hate
I hate the miniature visions y'all have for your lives
Like you don't have any pride
Would you just open your eyes?
There's a whole plethora of music to choose
But I guess the masses fuck with the
Artists loose in the screws
Only scratchin' the surface that's brought through by YouTube and news
Scorching fire in the furnace of the youth who use it and loose the:
Portion of their cerebellum that prevents
Extortion of wanting inhalants influenced by
Foreign, public figure peasants who think they are
Soarin' like they're in the heavens. Mmm
Morbidly formin' a horrid moral story
Scorin' the hordes in the lore of touring glory
Ignorin' the hoards to thwart my quarry's priori
Florid and borin' you whores roarin' "Sorry"
Yeah
But apologies don't mean shit anymore than ever
So pedal to metal, livin' through my hustle and my bustle
Turnin' every single speck of my struggle into
A definite lyrical muscle
I will never be the kinda man that abandons my
Family because I'm feeling sad and get no reply
I hope everything will end up bad for you
And you fuckin' commit suicide
I ain't fuckin with you
(I don't vibe with selfish mothafuckaz, I was raised by a family
We had our differences, but those differences don't never make us quit bein' family
This is to all of you fake muthafuckaz)
Yeah, I'm talkin to you!
Freeze, give it up, mm
Geeze, that's enough
Breathe, lil bit of ooh
Sleaze, you're in my
Streets, rollin' up my
Trees, you got no
Steeze, bitch
I ain't never fuckin' with you
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