No Name (No Hook)

by CRASHprez + knowsthetime



I turned 26, and I always drop on my birthday.
Here it goes.


We Back, nigga
Big Boat, I see you
Yuh, aye
And Ian knows the time, nigga

Calvins on my ass, went for half at the Rack, aye
Walk off in the lab, check my stats, get the facts, aye
I can’t raw dog if you cap when I ask, no
Never lack, pack a strap, Gilead a snack
Cost ya mama rent without a pass, these niggas trash
Ravage us to rack it up, we had enough
Been the hardest rappin’ since an African told other Africans they wasn’t Black enough
Damn, that make me mad as fuck
Half-detached bachelor
Raised a tax bracket up
Passive cuz I can get touched, but niggas don’t get no points for that
Lowkey, my joints is bad
Highkey, I coined the swag
Poindexter with drip on his limbs
Crankin’ DOOM: how he clicked with his friends
Payin’ dues, said his shit wasn’t it
Now they made the fool, now the shit in his grin
But it ain’t come from the hole I been divin’ in
He told me control him, I’m dominant
I told her to choke me and ride the dick
Do not show this quote to my mama 'nem
Cuz I know that she gloat my accomplishments
But I'll owe her some smoke if I pop with this
I’m her honest lil honors kid
I'm my daddy wit' a hairline
Fuck the frauds, free the frail
Ain’t no more livin’ on scared time
No givin’ you cowards the airtime, nigga, try us
You sick! I know you despise us
Dismissed! Lil homie, ya time’s up
Ya rigmarole don’t excite us
Like when the patrol don’t indict none
It get tricky for home where we fight from
But don’t sit on ya phone until Christ come
Bro hit the petrol, his sight numbed
The pit of his soul was a nice sum
I said “Kid, why you cold as night? You hold the light!”
But he couldn’t pipe up
Remind me when freelancer life sucked
At McDonald’s with coupons to swipe up
Couldn’t keep me a rack in my bank
Too preemie to mack, I pass for straight
Slap the Zay, lamp to Frank
Down bad in that shitty Twin City wind
Frigid temps
Flippant tint in my chagrin
Innocence dissipate
Had to twist the fate like Hardy Boy, we Godly, boy
No paparazzi, but I'm poppin’ to my mommy, boy
One more playlist try to block me
It’s gon’ be some snowflake Twitters buyin’ my streams
I been Top 3 off the shit I dropped at 19
Rappin’-ass Black Bi King, fuck a pipe dream
Sexy young nigga, and I care about shit
Wan’ differ? Come hither, where my whereabouts is

I'm in the fuckin' booth moisturized
My beard connected
You niggas cain't tell me shit


released January 29, 2020
Produced by knowsthetime
Recorded by BoatHouse
Mixed + Mastered by Lucien Parker
Art Direction by Caleb Vanden Boom


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