Pusha T sounds pissed and it seems at a particular someone. Is it Drake? Is it Consequence, B.o.B? Who knows. I doubt its Drizzy but there are too many subliminals on this one.
Thanks to MissInfo
Lyrics under the cut.
The nerve of you, he’ll sit and clip at your lines like he ain’t heard of you…
I seen it happen before, that man will murder you.
The lowest form of a thief is a cat burglar. Tiptoe-in but the whole time clonin’*.
The elephant’s in the room, the bitch glowin’.
Like a ghetto girl with the good weave sewn-in, she walk like its hers but the whole world knowin’.
Told n—as it’s the new god flow, it’s that new testament and that old god* knows. and you new n—as don’t get to pass GO, I’ll monopolize boardwalk empire flow.
So don’t mention me in the same breath, I’m Genghis. Just venting I never wish to be famous.
Truth told I’d much rather be strangers, before it leads to me turnin’ n—-s to angels.
Local n—-as hatin’ but I can’t blame ‘em. Cleared the road to the riches but I can’t pave ‘em. Put Trey up on your hook, still couldn’t save ‘em*. Better chance with a snowball hittin’ Satan.
Dreams money can buy, three racks just spent on my Marty McFlys.
Now I’m back to the future, my career deja-vu you, when you muthaf–kers thought I would barely survive….
Rappers on their sophomores*, actin’ like they boss lords. Fame such a funny thing for sure when n—as start believing all those encores, I’m just the one to send you off, bonjour*.
See yourself as I pull up in that mirror tint, skins vs blouses, you mirror Prince*.
Chappelle Show, all them Neal Brennans*, sketch comedy, who is for real penning?
The talk don’t match the leather, the swag don’t match the sweaters*, the wolves don’t walk with shepherds.
These Margiela verses all of you mall dwellers, off-the-rack suits looking like pallbearers.
Coffins for my old bitches’ orphans, Daddy’s MIA like a dolphin, play the Fendi bucket like a sharkfin*, Cool J-ing on you bitches but I’m dark-skinned. We walked in, seats courtside, dap Diddy, Will Ferrell on my walk by.
At the US Open, there’s much more to Queens, Versace blu-blockers, row behind Oracene*….
Push…no shots….but nothing goes unseen.
