Guilty
This shit got that feel

Uh, look, reject back from the trenches (ha)
Back with the MAC with extensions (brrt)
Thinkin' 'bout when they had me layin' on my back in intensive
Clapped in my head and neck
That shit was inches from hittin' my carotid
I would've bled to death and nobody could stop it (they wouldn't stop it)
Doctor said the bullet too close to my voice box to try to get it out it
"You can't touch it and I doubt there's anything we can do about it"
Bells Palsy from damage to my nerves
No feeling in my legs, I took a bullet in the head, nigga (I took a wigshot)
That's why I chuckle at the comments that I read
About the way my face look, and shit, I could've been dead (I'm still here, nigga)
Just focus on the lyrics, don't focus on my appearance (you hear the bars)
You know you too pussy to go through it, so you fear it (you pussy)
You see the way they quotin' this shit hysterically
What you see is the dopest of any era, Machine (woo)
Like a line of some coke you sit on the mirror and sniff, nigga
This shit is a gift, nigga (this shit a gift)
King of the underground, but still, I'm a rich nigga
A few years ago, I was just on my dick, nigga (ha)
The moral of my story, I ain't switch up my pitch, nigga (I was fucked)
Stayin' true to myself and take whatever I get, nigga
A lot of niggas rappin', they don't spit it like this, nigga
Rollie on my wrist, leave the pot like this, nigga, whip, nigga (woo)
Name your top five, I might be better (ha)
After this album, bet a critic can't slight me ever
No pen, no pad when I write these letters
I just recite off the top, that shit hype me better
We played with bricks since the fitted cap and white tee era
Ask Benny, ask West, had semis, had TECs, nigga (talk to 'em)
No kizzy, we was really at necks, nigga
Really played with me, then he really got stretched, nigga (brrt)
Machine

Copyright: RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC
Writer(s): Desmond Price, Roosevelt Harrell