The world's corrupt
It hits so hard, I slip and I fall
Knocked into place like a brick in the wall
Pot in the hardspot smoking on the mic
Like a snapspoke broken on the bike
I'm all sketch, so don't bet all your wager
Cos sketch is my second nature
My first is Tree that's my whole name
Riding soul from the grave you can call me Coltrane
I'm a jazzcat, stash that half-assed stuff
I don't really wanna cut no damn swag cut with Draino
Say no more, I fuck your rhymes in the ass 'till the syllable's sore
I'm still in this four, my own fucking gratitude that is rude
But that is me with the mastery, had to be
I master L with my Mastercard
So suck my dick like a baby blue abattoir