Fresh F. Specifics - Coates, Twice

Intro: Golden Boy

Yeah, fuckin up, yo, not enough, spark a bagel

Verse 1: Golden Boy

It’s the rougher, rhymer slash hustler subscriber

I stumble from under covers to plain clothes by the

Time most other folks luncheon

My line of work don’t require nothing like punching

The clock, I talk right off top, mic’ed, on topic or all live

I’m trying to find a spot in the tropic

Come off it, nah truly

Yo this shit is like rap video shoot without the total treats

Unique the way he rips any kind of paper

Do his duty to confine the data from a faker

Plagiarizer please take a skydeezy from a scraper

I’m fiending for the cherry vapor

Very high

Carry my merry men to the airy sky valkyries prepare to die

Or however you pronounce it, I’ve been in areas with hairy ounces

Buried into coffee grounds

When he go to get a cup of joe, get astounded

Think I seen a pound of green in the Folger’s brown

So you found it, better go to town and start breaking up

I’m saying son, baking is the best park of waking up

Hook: Golden Boy

Yo, yo, yo, yo, the business

Need to ship it, dip it in some Folger’s

Even the most cultured doberman couldn’t sniff it

They missed it

Well heck, I’m liking this system

Smells fresh, exciting

It’s so exciting to me

Verse 2: Coates

Yo two seven percent forties are the Irish jetpacks

And my incredible hulk innards will fight setbacks

Mount really where cold winters are froze stiller

Icicles in his speech homie I’m mad chiller

When he cam to the fork in the road, headed straight to the space whip

Birds eye view of the prose, rhymes like a lightbulb with no switch

Scratch every January holding no chips

Puffy coates is a herbalist on a mission to make weed immediately

Thought he was a journalist, so blitzed

Must have put the stash in the Folgers

Supernova sighting on the couch in a coma

If I don’t get some fuckin vitamin d sippin the grey sky

Heineken where is the sky hiding it

And for the dust on my mpc let’s make em envy

Hook: Golden Boy

Yo, yo, yo, yo, the business

Need to ship it, dip it in some Folger’s

Even the most cultured doberman couldn’t sniff it

They missed it

Well heck, I’m liking this system

Smells fresh, exciting

It’s so exciting to me

Verse 3: Golden Boy

Sunset rider train level boss pistol dueling

Slick rolling dive behind boxes while I’m shooting

Both hands drooling, fat yellow slugs slow movement

Laid back coolin on the track metal slug music

Batter up for X Factor, who’s in it for the cheddar only when they need to use

it

And which crew’s got my back now from the ruthless

Ruin of the stackhound

Boot it up the cut with the cracked valves cooing

Sounding like cats and the raccoons scrapping out back of old shacks on the

mountain

Cut me slack or be found in the fountain

Let the track breathe

Get to howling

Let the track breathe

Get to howling

Hook: Golden Boy

Yo, yo, yo, yo, the business

Need to ship it, dip it in some Folger’s

Even the most cultured doberman couldn’t sniff it

They missed it

Well heck, I’m liking this system

Smells fresh, exciting

It’s so exciting to me