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letra de valley kids - j-yak

same kid, always stayed low key/
roll through the valley bumpin h.o.c., off the tape o.d./
plenty dudes who used to hate on me/
would send requests, tryna get in games of halo 3/
but its chilll tho, im still so so, bout my ill, flowing/
still they try this beef sh-t like buffalo bill’s colon/
you’ll be wilco-in, always playing uncle/
my names mumbled, afraid that i may trouble, your pace/
with my reb-ttal.. i go off like a sp-ce shuttle/
you play the puddle, get stepped on when i break huddle/
your whole team’s on my circ-msized tip, but/
there’s no squares in my circle, you can’t circ-mscribe sh-t/
so quit asking me, yo you spit? fantastically/
and unmixed, so master me, cuz my sh-t is dastardly, hitting/
writtens like c-ssidy, then they lie like “that was free,”/
riiight, no wonder n0bodys f-cking with you like chast-ty/
your majesty, can get his -ss whipped when i grab a sheet/
have a half a tree, divied up and p-ssed to me, in a sweet/
there’s no relation to mac. your #1’s cousin, like a deck of cards/
jack shows up, your 1 doesnt/

im buzzing, bumpin domo genesis/
feeling fly as pegasus, my drive is sly as lexuses/
my game is big as texas is, the -ss behind alexis is/
and im just tryna set my sh-t above of all of these pessimists/
the message is.. that this is the kid’s year/
and if your to spit here, your destined to get smeared/
like queers, in the game, my names feared like vick’s here/
cuz after i switch gears, to six, ears are kicked, clear im sh-t-face/
fresh off of an average–ss mixtape, but ready to dic-tate/
my place, feeling heavy as d-ck-weight, the stakes are/
they tryna tell me where the brakes are/
no car, my bars respond only to eight b-lls, i’m on one/

but i’m fresh off two, in my diamond crew/
sea green tea, or off-blue/
i cross dudes, leave em living off soft fooods/
their jaws too sore, from awe droped, they achoooed/
yea, hint of the sickness, i’m hindering hitlists/
of visc-ious vigilantes fishing for biscuits/
i switch em like stick shifts, and hit em like thick hips/
they rolling, i kick flip em, hold em and nitpick em/
sick wit em, no,im sick of em, more/
curriculum is coming, but keep humming, your summoned/
under my freshness, out for the best, my obsession/
the rest can wake me when the test is…done/

- j yak

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