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"Talking Shit" lyrics by CAPITAL STEEZ
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"Talking Shit"
[feat. Joey Bada$$]

Back the fuck back nigga
I love my niggas!

[Verse 1: Capital STEEZ]
Damn, and the saga continues
So stand still when I slide on the venue
Since middle school been on point with this pencil
Respect it, he stay sharper than Ginsus
What's on the menu? Crabs in a basket
You make it somewhere and they just grabbin' you back in
Amateur rappers and their mans wanna battle
And turn pale in the face like their last name Jackson
I admit, it was early for that
We still embarrasin' and damagin' the burliest cats
But on a higher note J. STEEZ play keys
You can tell by the respect that I have earned in the trap
See some say he the hottest in his class
The rest talk trash, I acknowledge it and laugh
Jacking on my swag put the product in a bag
Since erlenmeyer I learned to put the fire to the flask
And came through with that crack spit
New to the league straight ballin' off a draft pick
You can tell all them amateurs that you rappin' with
That I been going rampant since I came into this rapping shit
Staying passionate
Wrapping my hand around any rapper in my caliber coming after it
Don't think they got a pamphlet and a manuscript
But every style of art they crafted I mastered it
So bow down to your sensei I been paid
Young boss since the tenth grade
Now I see through flows, like water
I'm flyer than C3P0 and Skywalker

[Verse 2: Joey BADA$$]
Too much west coast dicklickin', too many niggas
Gettin' caught slippin', knittin' mittens into kissin' kittens
Too many chickens wanna be pidgeons, shittin' over
Stadiums, and leave it drippin' on your cranium
Too many niggas think they gon' blow like Arabians
Thinkin' they gon' eat next like Drake, no Canadian
The best in the universe put you in a hearse
If I don't get my space like alien, the kid's fire, don't play with him
The fam used to baby him because he was the youngest
He made a few adjustments and then proved that he wasn't dumbest
I keep the fly-est chicks with the flattest stomachs
Claim they just wanna get high, but on the low, they be down to suck it
And I'm not the one to fuck with, but fuck it
Leave the ruckus to a musket if you punk niggas can't take the judgement
They love it, do a couple shows and I collect my hundred
It barely budge my budget but it ain't nothin' I stay stuntin'
They stay frontin' like I'm at the back, rear door
Because I'm real though, and I've always been a weirdo nigga
A young Caesar but he never kept his hair low
The dear flow flows through ear flows explodes earlobes
And therefore, I remain the pharoah
Sittin' on my royal chair ho, with a gold adorned sombrero
Came through and jacked the throne, you know the troop style
Let's sit em' down, and crown him like a root canal

Bitch, We some bad ass motherfuckers nigga!

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