The Quill - Ubi, Ubi feat. The Palmer Squares

I didn’t feel anything, uhh

I feel fine

I don’t feel tired

I-Is this real life?

Yeah, this is real when I dip the quill, blood fit to spill

Was content to just sit and chill

But now my head blown up like Mr. Bill

I don’t flip my image just to fit the bill

Or get with gimmicks that the kids will feel

A couple of face tattoos with a cup of lean

Tri colored hair with prescription pills

At the pharmacy where kids get the blues

On my Carter III tryna get the Views

If this tune don’t fit your groove

I’m sure Cardi B got the hits for you

Pardon me if how big I grew makes it hard to see

I eclipse your view

Wouldn’t spend your muse if the party scene was a centrifuge

I been sent to you with a

Message of impending doom

When I’m riding through on my Paul Revere

In love and warfare all is fair

At high noon you’ll die, now say all your prayers

Dollar daredevil balling there

U-B-I with The Palmer Squares

You’d lose your mind in the hall of mirrors

I’d just use the time to play solitaire

Upper tier, yeah we right there

You could see my flare when I shoot the sky

When two divide my vibe unified

Like a Shiite cleric with a Sunni tribe

True to life, why dispute the lie

We might stare at your cutie pie

If I listen close when you play your song

That don’t mean I care for what you describe

Pass the flower, roll up nug in the after hour

When they close the club, holding bud 'cause I know the plug

But when they ask around, I’m like shoulder shrug

Then we pour up cups, half the time I don’t know what’s what

Spun the globe, now they show us love

I don’t show a buzz, I just throw up dubs

Y’all know what’s up

I run from Oakland to Buffalo on a bumpy road to my bungalow

Hustle float then I puff a bowl

Going up in smoke like the oven broke

Out of sight, Hubble scope

You won’t see me, that’s rubber sole

Jumping over another foe on a bungee rope in the thunder dome

Able-bodied, I take karate

Sweep the leg like my name was Johnny

Ichiban when I speak a rhyme

But the people wanna keep hating on me

Got a predilection for teaching lessons

Egocentric, I need attention

Each and every release I bless

Is a feed the press never seems to mention

Been scraping the bottom barrel

Cape Fear and I’m Bob De Niro

American Outlaw, Colin Farrell

Finna drop it on 'em like a bombardero

Goddamn, it’s the return of the fly

A mystic misfit burning alive

On point like a surgical knife

Avert your eyes, say word to the wise

You could find Ac pantomiming

Even if you tie both hands behind him

Can’t lie, I’m a tad bit shy but I move fast forward and rewindin'

It’s all part of the grand design

Mastermind with an ax to grind

You cats are way past your prime

It’s asinine how we rap just to pass the time

Woke up in an opium den

Rolled outta bed and I’m already spent

It gets hard to be jovial

When you become everything that you’ve grown to resent

I’ve never been slow

Ready to go like I’m holding a rodeo bull and a pen

Every show is a global event at the podium over and over again

Get your hands high (hands up)

One time for the disenfranchised (one time)

Two times for the capsized ships (two times)

Finna cram my dick in your bitch’s backside

I’m underrated, run the race with prosthetic legs

Don’t ever question my fucking greatness

Texas Chainsaw, shred the face off your severed head

Back on top, high like an astronaut and not not just blasting off

Foam at the mouth like a rabid dog

A soldier without any camouflage

I’m an open target, jump street, broken-hearted

One seed grows the garden

I know that you know what I spoke and recorded

And skin is the stone that it’s carved in

Row, row, rowin' your boat

Sink your teeth in and hope that it floats

Smoke a carton through a hole in my throat

Live for the weak and alone so long as you’re meeting your quota

Recidivistic, a bit sadistic, a minor detail, a big statistic

A sick and twisted, religious mystic

Find a female to hit the skins with

Sock it to ya, hallelujah, knock 'em dead, plot revenge

Montezuma, I really am through with this shit

6−6-6, privy to Lucifer’s tricks

Making me nauseous, spewing at this

Aim at the target and shoot to the clip

Soon to be licking the wounds

Truth is, I’d be stupid to loosen my grip

Usually rhyme when I talk man

Used to get by with a Walkman

Any sudden movement, it skips

You see a shoe and assume that it fits

Do you what Cain did to Abel, making it painful

Scooping your brains with a ladle, yuck

What are you making excuses?

Shut up and take the abuses

Term