Al Q8a - Heems

Who you know fresher than Heemy, riddle me that

The rest of y’all know where he spiritually at

Lyrically lick a shot, like he’s spit from a gat

But I don’t glorify that, I dwell in the trap

Louisville Kentucky, with drawing in the slammer

Coke Boys t-shirt, beard like Osama

Osama, oh mama, sorry for all the drama

But you taught me bout the guala, told me to be bout commas

Hi haters, our guns from Al Qaeda

Naysayers, see you now or get you later

He Taliban and Dipset, Taliban

Is Herman an alleyman like Spanish for German for certain

Our guns aren’t squirting, Trap-istan, we put our funds to work and

Murk them, heat under kurta when we hurt them

6 feet deep, we put him under the dirt, dead

You do work, you get work

You do dirt, you get dirt

You fuck around, with these boys

No question, you get murked

Hi haters, our guns from Al Queda

Naysayers, see you now or get you later

Hi haters, our guns from Al Queda

Naysayers, see you now or get you later

This for Arabs in bodegas toting steel under the registers

And all illegal aliens, it’s them that never registered

I’m back on my old shit, baby I’m still Heems

Still gooning with the Guyanese out in Richmond Hill, Queens

I might move to the mountains out in Pakistan

Until my own government will drop a bomb

But you won’t hear about it in no news clip

Mommy they move quick, that’s just how they do shit

USA, USA, USA, USA

USA, U