Hook
We aint playing boy!
This is not a game.
I’ma spit flames till I need Rogaine.

Intro
Bring the lights down. Turn the party up.
Let the bass and the treble beat your body up.
When that snare hits, just go berserk.
I gave you food for thought, now come get your dessert.

Verse 1
Raised in Virginia. Bred by Texans.
North Carolina is where I made my exit.
Out the womb of my mom now I’m in the land of palms.
Won’t catch me on the beach but I’m a beast on these bars.
When they said put your city on. I replied back,
Please be more specific, homey which one is that.
I'm not a Google app, but I been around the map.
Not so good with cardio, but I’ve been around some tracks.
-Yeah. Straight Usain Bolt’in it.
The blogs may not hype me but my fans stay quoting it.
--They ride with me like a sidekick.
We roll deeper than Tiger Woods with his side chicks.
And I aint chasing Jack Nicklaus or majors either.
One stage at a time, I’m turning haters to believers.
I’m Infinite Skillz. My pleasure to become acquainted.
Just don’t expect me to stop until I’m Rogaine’in.
Verse 2
Spit a little flow. Get a little dough.
Make em rock to and fro as if it was a boat.
In the middle of a moat. Then hit em with a quote
That starts at the heart and ends in the throat.
Fast or slow, I’m past you pokes. You bastards actually asking for
Me to have show I’ve mastered mo’ styles than my childhood bike had spokes
Times the isles of Galapagos. I’m a thousand miles from half these ghosts
That half you folks be clapping for. Fuck this razzle dazzle flow.
No! I aint playing all these gimmick games.
Not even bad knees can force me to mimic lames.
[I’m… not playing-
This is not a game, is not just a saying.]
What yall been making should be against the law man.
Yall really suck like eating yogurt through a straw man.
Aww damn. That’s gotta be a joke track.
No? I guess Obama took that hope back.
I’m coming so strapped, this is my Call of Duty.
And I aint stopping till the doctors put them charges through me.