Abyss

Its the microphone melter Mr no fucks given

The spitter of poems, givin em Primitive dope rhythms

Written on scrolls hidden with lyrical gold

They reckon kids were involved

They stay driven I'm told

Listen, cypher holds keys and the hype alone

Might've told the old me just to bite my tongue

They claim their OGs, I ain't heard em spit

They like you know who it is but I don't know who it is

Sitting alone, scribbling shit on my phone

This is blood, sweat, tears and bits of my bones

This the sort of rap you turn up and listen alone