{Verse 1}

The core of my head just filled up

From the sport I was fed 

Allured by the best you’re why I’m vexed

I never felt a way until I pondered 

And I never smelt the graze until I bonded

With the situation and the shit you played is Olympic great 

You gold medalist but the soul never did 

Told many things oh better pick

Cold weapons bitch

Oh the 12th of may certain people will melt away

Cos the alphabet’s ricocheting and alf’ll get irritating

The frowns’ll get big and they fit cos the sounds address the shit I’ve stayed with

The title’s acrostic God’s gift 

The locksmith the long winded top shit

The lochness that bobs in and swaps tips

On toxic optics 

{Verse 2}

The tape’s rolling, pen’s writing but my brain’s swollen

I may find peace within battle like dead vikings or M Bison

New me every day but I can’t lie cos the truth bleeds in every way

Watch how these letters ricochet through your speakers 

Make you feel a way like you need em

Four lettering to my name 

Four lettering to my title

The mixtape’s fit to be what fixes my name in history

Stop making contributions to the swamped illusions of materialism 

Problems moving through radio waves and constant confusion

I could give a shit about you writing out some checks

How about you find some peace and try and sound your best

Get out the house and bounce around and out and out forget

Awej out the foulest mouth and crowned the loudest yet

Yeah