Watch Out

K.W. The Artisan

Produced x Fat Jon

The third single from All Sons Club.

Verse One

Oh snap. Who's that? It's a bird. It's a plane.

Flyin higher in the sky than the nigga Superman.

You can be my Lois if you know how to stay up in your lane.

We smokin Mary Jane like we got a spider on our brain.

Shout out to Peter Paker.

Get friendly in your neighborhood 'cept I'm a bit darker.

I came to the dark side like I'm Luke Skywalker's father.

You niggas lookin like "Why I oughta

do somethin about this. This nigga makes me sick."

I see you hatin on the sidelines like a bitch.

I been startin in this game while you on the bench.

Crossin niggas with no practice like I'm Allen Iverson.

We talkin bout practice? Well, son, you need it.

My team like Money Mayweather: undefeated.

You takin 3 L's back-to-back: Golden State post-season.

Lebron ain't the only one that keeps shots ringin.

Hook (2x)

Watch out cuz here I come (3x)

Here I come (2x)

Verse Two

Fee-Fi-Foe-Fum Here i come.

I'm Godzilla to you niggas. Boy, you better run.

See, when I get to steppin, this shit ain't for fun.

I got the power in my hair like my name was Samson.

Like Rev. Run, I pray for my friends and enemies.

No matter what y'all wish for me, I hope that y'all succeed.

Just live life like a man. Get off your knees

and when you see me in the streets, don't come up like "Maleek!'

"How you been?" I know it's been a minute

but I've been on my grind. See, I'm out here tryna get it.

I know this ain't the beginning but I'm far from finished.

Tryna end in 1st place with this penmenship

be it rhymes or it's art.

Compared to what I'm makin, y'all music sounds like farts.

Compared to what I'm drawin, y'all shouldn't even start.

I'll take y'all back to school. Fill up chalk board like Bart

Y'all better

Hook (2x)

Verse Three

Don't ever pause that shit

cuz I done hit too many hoes for you to even question.

Not to mention, I only wife up pretty women

and that's the Fayetteville code. I'm talkin bout 9's and 10's.

See, I win and you lose.

My shit dope. You boo-boo.

Your bitch gives me snoo-snoo

and you cry like boo-hoo.

Nah, screw you and her too.

I'm tryna make rap tunes.

I know that it sounds cool

the way I murder ink. No Ja Rule.

More like Snoop mixed with J. Cole.

I'm gettin high as fuck and I'm killin these flows.

Where's the competition? I defeated my foes.

Like Kanye, I drive slow. I'm tryna go so

Too early for the hook.

I know you niggas nervous. I can see your shook

cuz ain't no such things as half-way crooks.

You niggas scared to death, scared to look.

Play by the book and you will get shelved.

You think I'm up in this bitch doin it for my health?

I keep it real. Don't give a fuck how you felt.

I got my family to feed. This shit ain't for self.

We all stuck together like a fuckin patty melt.

I'm tryna stack these metals like I'm Michael Phelphs.

I'm tryna get more land, accumulate some wealth

and when I get it and your ass asks for help,

I'ma tell you

Hook (3x)

This is the first solo song released from All Sons Club. This beat sounded like something from the '90's so I wanted to make it fun but have it contain bars too. The sample made the hook real easy to make and sing along to. I wanted the cover to make it seem like I was pickin up my sword and walkin out of the door.

-K.W.

The Higher-Ups University