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Alma Mater [Prod. by Arbus Beats]

from 911 by Izreal

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lyrics

All my alma mater are addicts, pregnant or overachievers,
Been ashin that reefer since Ashton Kutcher wanted Moore,
Pacin back n forth, feet sore but the mind gotta roar,
Obstacles I overcome cause the globe I gotta explore,

Pour poor me into a glass half empty of whiskey,
Then I switch angles, now Im rich, half full, try me,
Bout to feast on dishes I ain't ever seen,
Heard of figures this big, but never touched till currently,

Currency be coming in quickly, monthly, weekly,
I got cash I got to ship in, working till midnight sleeps,
Up until the mornin', workin' on my flowin',
Warned the fams I’m goin' to war, I’m Hardened,

Warm in foreign hands, pardon I got issues of abandonment,
Put my passion in Pandora's box and held it all in,
Until now, it's explodin out the barrel of a rocket, runnin',
While I'm spinnin' on the tip of a needle, this balance is a big feat, mannnn

No frontin’, no frontin’, no frontin’…

Most my friends never had a father,
Known to paint pictures, spit flow like lava,
Quote scripture and rip it up like I'm Hoffa,
Been made since before manufacturin lies got Johnny out of office, (BANG)

Shimmey down chimneys with Jimmy and James Dean,
I mean Jim Bean, but my style is similar, don't sip lean,
I burn like bonfires, swimmin in fuego, last moments of Fredo,
Or was it Sonny? It's never sunny when murder is the lunchmeat,

Clench the fist and move the feet, revolutionary,
Been incendiary on beats, I burn vegetables with ease,
Deep in a culture known to harbor vultures that leech,
Normandy beach stormin' to norm the world back to nice beaches,

Numb the young, drug the dumb until they're spun,
Hung off ideas that can't catch a good run,
Smoke until there's none then reup until Kingdom come,
Been sink full of crumbs, no stoppin till marble columns,

No frontin’, no frontin’, no frontin’…

Speak the truth even if it ends my life,
Stand atop a column ragin till I poltergiest,
I vault the hype, run laps in my head at night,
Known to smite mics and find booties so ripe,

Give a fuck about a subject and they dismiss you,
Time to change our generation, turnin’ desire to cool,
Let the fire be the fuel, killing it till my soul drools,
Illin’ at it till my foes lose, only drop bars that contain truths,

Zeus in the booth from the land of the Moose,
Spittin’ till my lungs collapse like my neck got noose,
Got caboose? Then send your ass my way,
On a higher wave acceleration down the Highway,

I lost tomorrow by lingering over yesterday,
Mascaraed as a pest to get my fuckin’ pay,
But rather sing solemn under skies of grey,
Or talk about the happiness I felt when life is great,

credits

from 911, released May 29, 2017
Produced by Arbus Beats, lyrics written and performed by Izreal.

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