Zachary Hill

Tell me what you thinkin'
Like this is a status report
I was gonna quit the game but I had to abort
Keepin' it quiet like a private island resort
I’m a mo'f*ckin' grammar Nazi like Shannon Stewart
And I ain’t talkin' 'bout the Blue Jays
I’m talkin' 'bout my favorite teacher in the eighth grade
But if we talkin' Toronto, we can do it tomorrow
'Cause l’ve been talkin' 'bout Chicago for a few days
I can kick a rhyme in a few ways
I’m on these boom bap beats, I’m in a new phase
I tend to kick rhymes durin' school days
Why you complainin' about my album, when you paid?
I can make some music in a Tesla
You can’t step to me 'cause I’m the best, bruh
Also the fact I possess my
Recipe and I’ll shoot your skull if you step to me
I’ve been locked in my room with a pen and a pad
I’ve been rappin' about cutting off their upper half
I’m dying for the love that my father had
But I’m not for the amount of hate that Conner had
You better step back, feel the wrath
Or I might just steal the cash
You don’t wanna deal with that, you don’t wanna be feelin' that
You don’t ever wanna rap so I don’t wanna hear your crap
Don’t say it’s easy ‘cause this sh*t is stressful (That’s no cap)
We clownin' around but we ain’t in a circus
I wish my grandma would’ve heard this
I be the worst me and I’m still a f*ckin' virgin
I’m only 14 and I’m still learnin'
I’m burnin' because this track is so heat
I can never be beat, and you know that I be earnin'
This dough; you wouldn’t know
How it feels to get hoes after doin' live shows
Woah; I be insane with the flow
After killin' it a couple of times with these rhymes
I be in the stu' sometimes
I be lookin' at the time and sayin'
“Oh sh*t, it’s nine!!!”
How long could I go? Until the end of the line
I’m proud to say that my music is all mine
But, this was done all by my design
They say, “Zac, accept you’re ass”
Then I’m like, “fine”
As long as I’m not makin' music wit' yo ass
Just look at your arms, they got no mass
You better stop rappin' because your flow’s so ass
Yo girl called and said, “Hey, where’s the show at?”
I’ll probably stop rappin' when I’m fifty
But if I keep goin' into my sixties
Stop me, please
I’ma take your girl on a trip to Hawaii
We be travelin', someone better call Rick Steves
Or call my manager
Something might happen you didn’t even know can occur
You are an amateur
I got a notebook with rhymes that is probably twenty inches in diameter
I’m so cold but it ain’t even snowin'
You better have that twenty dollars that you been owin'
You better pay for the damage up in my flowin'
But if the music were to stop I’d just keep goin' (Damn)
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