Connor McDees

Swear I suppose, there's nothing left for me in here to expose
 Ain't an accolade alive that I ain't claim on my own
 I been crowned since forever, been in here with the stones
 June bug with the plug, how I weight out the goal
 It's nothing new, almost to the point where I be bashful
 Double entendres are wondering what the mass do
 Double high, caught em and wonder if that'll catch you
 It's summersault slaughter so the flow is only natural
 Like no shots to it, more so in sense
 But I'm less about that, and more so bout a Benz
 I'm more so bout a win, and more so bout the end
 Being more than we can count, moreover contend
 Talking Russell in the huddle for a W
 Instead of serenading the parade, but not enough for attempts
 Know I may hear the beat, like the end of the speech
 Like the only protocol of what winning should be is right here
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 They gave Langston Hughes a pen, Coltrane a saxophone
 Gave me this mic but they ain't give me no chaperones
 Just me, just the ghost and the alphabet
 Nine years old watching Spike Lee's "Malcolm X"
 Yeah, I'm on some different type of energy
 Whether hot or cold better save them extremities
 Man, the jazz got you running like Floyd
 If it's money in the made, then the summer got a joint
 I ain't running for the coin man I'm tryna keep my promise
 Cause if I keep it G I'm selling honesty as product
 And it's piracy, all this airing out keep messing up my privacy
 Now I'm writing rhymes on papyrus leaves
 It's hometown hero, not a hero in my own town
 Got my own sound, I experiment with Mo-Town
 Yeah, that's the offseason
 You fish outta water and we coming out to season