Cost Of My Flow

Intro

Snap of the fingers, strum that guitar

Piano keys on the low, we in the yard

Yeah, listen up, it's raw

Verse 1

I'm a free style, this is my freestyle

Words wild, twisting, running a hard mile

Truth in the rhythm, I don't ever counterfeit

Every line loaded, every bar gotta fit

Acoustic chords blend with east coast pain

Mid-school flows with a dirty south brain

Bass hit heavy while the story unfold

Got the price on my mind, that cost untold

Chorus

But the style ain't for free

You see, Buckshot, is valuable, you agree

I breathe for a fee, ain’t cheap to me

Earning every second, every breath ain’t free

Verse 2

Snap to attention, got the rhythm in my chest

Illmatic intentions, only giving my best

Brooklyn to Atlanta, grind triple degree

Old school wisdom, nothing easy to be

I came from the cracks, under pressure I grow

Piano in the night, heavy rap in the flow

Guitar dragging truth while the bass gets mean

I’m breathing this life, 'cause I charge for the scene

Chorus

But the style ain't for free

You see, Buckshot, is valuable, you agree

I breathe for a fee, ain’t cheap to me

Earning every second, every breath ain’t free

Verse 3

See I'm that dude, really gets down for the mula

Seeds and crumbs, built mine, never no loser

Never been a bottom feeder, clean up my own plate

Raised from slumps of Taylorsville, set my own fate

Dirt on my boots, pain deep in my hands

Scar under nails, but I stuck with the plans

Life in the gutter but I spit out gold

Shoe soles worn but my story been sold

Outro

Snap with the struggle, strum agony to a beat

Bass thump my hunger, pain never defeat

I walk with the weight, still royalty to see

Paid in full, breath ain't free, you feel me?

And if I have to, I go to the penitentiary, for a century

Or ask the Lord, accept me for eternity

That's for my family, never folding or fleeing

I bleed what I live, real talk, no fleeing

Carry the dirt on these hands like a medal

Push through the mud, shift pain on the pedal

Roots from the struggle make the legacy right

Even if I don't make it back, my seeds take flight

But if I do, you know we MADE IT, YEAH, yeah, yeah

From the pain to the plate, to the porch where we sat

Shoeprints in the clay, stories inked on my hat

Chorus

Buck, on the beat!!

But the style ain't for free

You see, Buckshot, is valuable, you agree

I breathe for a fee, ain’t cheap to me

Earning every second, every breath ain’t free