"WORDS OF A KING (#BredToWin)" I've been dreamin' all my life, it's 'bout time I fuckin' wake up I'm genitive wit' Hip-Hop, possessed it in my makeup See I'm alive... but I ain't livin' yet More than a decade goin' in, why he ain't in it yet? Yeah, that's the million dollar question Maybe I'm goin' at it wrong, what's your suggestion? Goin' against my grain/migraine, stock up Excedrin 'Cause off top, you fuckin' wit' a wiz/Wiz like Sledgren An' I be feelin' myself, don't need MDMA Grillin' myself, no briquettes or propane Some rappers come off the top, I'd rather use the Rogaine My way or the highway, an' my way, has no lanes I mean, you can't stop a nigga in a jetpack The melanated Cliff Secord, stunt on you once I get back An' sadly, won't be many who will get that So later on, I'll look back an' wish I never writ that The homie Chris Reed said I remind him of Budden So it's only right, I hop on beat, rhymin' like Budden An' I don't mean wit' his flow, I mean, bein' vulnerable Music helps my mood, unload the truth Been a lot of love lost wit' me an' certain figures Wishin' they were figments of my imagination No exaggeration when I say I get on track an' murder niggaz Lift the skirt of niggaz throwin' shade on aspirations Take 'em back to '06, that's when Proof died Shook me to my core, I sat up an' cried Wishin' I could go back, catch all four slugs In the Triple C Club, prevent the spillage of blood 'Cause that year, lost one of my favorite emcees An' Mario, lost a cousin, it didn't have to be Lost another fave later, not a physical death But I could tell Shady died inside when Proof left So, let's go back to when I was 9 Or better yet, let's go back to when I was lyin' 15, thought I was gangsta, but truthfully I wasn't 'bout street life, stop confusin' me Shit nigga, I train Pokemon an' read comic books But don't mistake me for a pussy, never been shook I'm a smart guy, know when I'm in over my head So if it ain't worth the risk, a cheek is turned instead Still tell you kiss my ass, have you turnin' red You mad? Nigga go earn some bread Still sleepin' on me? Get burned in bed Literally, an' sexually; discern what's said These are the words of a king, born to lose pitifully But bred to win through heartache an' hardship, B On a Triple Crown Hike, ain't no mountain high enough An' I can go the distance like I'm Hercules, climbin' up Can't get no lower than now, so I keep risin' up Then Dougie on these haters, later, once my paper pilin' up Yeah... it's Fineprint... Call Me King... Two...

"No Option (#KingWitNoFear)" Hook(x2): I am not afraid, fears are forgotten Gotta get this paper, baby, rap's my only option, girl Once I get paid, fix all our problems Grind like I never did, there's no other option, yeah Verse 1: Line up my haters to shit on It's Fineprint, I'm just tryna get on Fuck all them bitches y'all hit on I got me the baddest, my chick's cold She's badder than average, my chick's gold Gonna get a diamond once I get on Gonna keep her shinin' wit' a sick glow 'Cause the guy you hear rhymin' got a sick flow Yo, so clap for a nigga wit' his rappin' ass Or you can toast for a nigga, even boast for a nigga No matter what you do, just make sure it's done wit' love An' send prayers to The Man above It's been 12 years, lotta tears an' grief 12 years, ears to beats Puttin' Pentel to Mead, that's pencil to sheet Only used pens to strike-out an' delete Got too much talent for a mediocre life; too much skill, never mediocre write Niggaz think Fine all mediocre; 'til he come an' they meet the ogre, right? 15 minutes of fame, I need to soak up the light, tell my momma Benjamin will soak up her tears Soak up the pain an' stress; keep ya' lips sealed on what you can't address Hook(x2) Verse 2: King-sized, but I ain't for sleepin' Sleep on me? Inconvenient greetin' A wake-up call, to wake up y'all It's my time to shine, you better wake up, dawg (Better wake up) No more setbacks, can't take a loss So any opposition out, gotta take 'em off I take off/Takeoff, no Offset or Quavo Flyin' high, off set, not AWOL See my girl told me she tired (I feel you, baby!), livin' paycheck to paycheck An' I overstand that, so understand that, I'll do anything for these rubberband stacks Prayin' for a deal, where that hunnid grand at? Or that hunnid mil' at? Can you dummies feel that? I been livin' in squalor, need a fistful of dollars, not a dismal tomorrow Fuck punchlines, I speak the real; time's of the essence, need to build Stack it all up, shit's bleak fa'real; roll up on 'em like lunch time, eat they meal I'm down on my luck an' I need to chill, uhn, get that weight off my shoulders On my last buck, if I receive this deal? Muhfucka, game over Hook(x2)