"Axes 2 Grind (Return To The Throne)" Verse 1: Fineprint's back, an' he still got more +pride+ than a lion's seed That emcee you try to be, fuck off wit' that tryin' me Denyin' me a sought after claim - I will kill for Like I ain't bearin' down wit' full weight on this nation's pulse Wit' the tip of a steeltoe Ready to - curb stomp 'em in the jugular vein An' see if they bleed skill, that real raw shit Like cannibals indulgin' in fecal appetites You fools only clap for hype But when it comes to the truth that I often write, I find myself Teeter-totterin' 'tween here an' the afterlife An' truth hurts, so it must burn when you grab the light You daftly write, I strike like death adders Locked-on like fighter jets; the best batter You just buntin', I'm smackin' homeruns Nigga, you gross nothin', I amass the whole sum Grab the whole Sun, fireballs in my palm Drop it on that ass like a Spirit Bomb, here it comes A hot spitta like Andretti, got a searin' tongue Fierce flow to the track's body 'til I sear it's lung You know it's dopeness when you hear me on An' wit' collabs, I'm the dopest on; nobody's near me, holmes Often hold back like Superman, peep these nigga's forms Then drop some bombs just to complement an' get 'em warm Verse 2: Got axes to grind into the spines, of backstabbers an' naysayers Reason why I'm barely a team player I've run across too many in my lifetime Tumors in my life, once thought to be benign It's too many old rappers wit' - chips on they shoulder Mad because they flows ain't gettin' any colder Stuck in the past wit' outdated production Don't know how to switch it up, needin' deconstruction Admittedly, I get - complacent like these dolts But soon realize insanity gets no results Update my nuts an' bolts, apply oil where the joints creak Then come annoint the beat See, my style may be, kinda reminiscent Of 90's Hip-Hop, but a lot is much different 'Cause I mix it wit' the modern, an' to some that's a problem But I'm done tryna please elitists stuck at the bottom Fa'real...

"Where Were U?: 64 Shots 2 The Dome" Where the fuck were you when I was up in that asylum? Where the fuck were you when I was feelin' suicidal? Nigga where were you when all my stresses kept pilin'? I know where you was, pro'lly somewhere out there smilin' Where the fuck were you when niggaz claim they had beef? Nigga where were you? I could have been dead up in these streets Where yo' ass was at when fools was threatenin' my moms? Where yo' ass was at? Scared to dirty up ya palms Where the fuck were you when I was out here self-harmin'? All you did was talk down on me, bein' smarmy Fuck where you was at, I can do without the blarney An' the snarky-ass remarks; you gets no pardon Niggaz ain't shit, man, they see you out here starvin' Instead of tryna help, they roadblockin' an' barrin' Then wanna get mad when you - throw 'em in ya bars an' Exclude 'em out ya' future; man, that's just karma This niche I've been carvin', to reap what I've been farmin' Is my main source of topic, but to some, it seems I'm harpin' While them niggaz just LARPin', I'm gettin' my bars sharpened Get my Moses on wit' this mic, an' start partin' These seas - that nonbelievers wanna drown me in Keep me in a funk, that's more putrid than downwind But I Chumbawumba haters; when I'm down, I get back up again An' keep it notated in my mind to never fuck wit' them Don't need that dead weight, already got a load An' it's on me like Atlas, but the pressure fuckin' my back up It's a must I get these racks up, money by any means Reason why I've had my sights set on this industry See, I could get this deal, make all this shit real But folks in my circle don't seem to get the appeal Of why I wanna shine, be paid, have it made, laid in the shade Sippin' on bourbon-spiked lemonade Get my momma out this hellhole, move her into a manor Cop her - that Jaguar she's wanted since I was in pampers But, Negative Nancys put a damper on my goals Tryna stick me wit' a mediocre 9-to-5 payroll An' nah, that ain't how I'm built: I was born to shine Been at this since I heard "My Name Is" in '99 Started wit' poetry, later hit my growth spurt When I repeated the 9th an' Jed left my ego hurt After that, I worked harder, 'cause I felt Hip-Hop Was my only outlet as well as ticket out this shit-shop That's my life, of monotony an' bad choices Wrestlin' wit' demons an' - hearin' voices Night after night, psychosis gettin' the best of me I'm wicked, so you know there's no rest for me An' e'rybody like to think they know what's best for me Like a nigga can't think for himself; it's stress for me So I just grind by my lonely, an' pay them no mind Workin' like that +Little Red Hen+, awaitin' time For my bread to leaven, then I'll break it wit' those Who never turned they back on me or sided wit' my foes Don't be like that +grasshopper+, starvin', stuck in the cold Watchin' the +ant+ who's well-prepared, reap - all he has sowed All Summer '16, in good taste; 'cause workin' today Means you eat tomorrow -- go hard for that buffet An' this shit ain't just bars, this Print givin' you jewels But it's up to you how you use gems relayed to you All I offer up is what I've learned from the OG's Those who came before me in the game an' staked their claim See, what counts is how you work yo' flame An' get yo' shot; careful of those who will jerk yo' chain Wit' nonsense, charlatans talkin' louder - than Charlamagne Tha God Is you finish or is you done? Where ya' at? Let's get it, son

"A King's Thoughts <Interlude>" Time is money, an' mine's lookin' like a Audemar But I spend it writin' my arm off givin' y'all the bars When it's time to drop, where the fuck are y'all? Claimin' you fans, but never there to give me my applause I work hard for that credit, put the time in Steadily inclinin', losin' myself in the process Hopin' I don't start declinin' or get obsessed Wit' workin' too hard to prove myself to non-believers They wanna write me off, put me wit' odds an' ends But one's trash, is another's treasure Too deep for one to fathom wit' inadequate measure But some find pleasure, in proddin' me into the deep end Into a cesspool, but that's where I found my crown Pluckin' jewels from it when I write rhymes down See, it ain't about bars anymore An' honestly, it ain't really that hard anymore Used to make enemies, now there's no more beef If I don't like you, just don't like you; let it be That's time an' energy better spent on fresher concepts I leave the ana in the past, under rug swept I push it forward, buildin' a future wit' my girl Givin' her a hard time, but she know-- she my world It's always off an' on, we act like kids Petty is, as petty does, on that brat-type shit Only Lord knows why we act like this Cussin', each other out, then come back wit' a kiss A bunch of I love you's an' apologies To erase the fuck you's an' the mockery I must admit, sometimes it slows me down But despite it, she's the only one who holds me down Mainly why I never left her for Genea; she holds the crown The queen to my fuckin' king, she knows her ground It's partially because of her that I growed my sound Matured wit' my content, to explode an' astound She's the drivin' force for my grind An' the voice in mind keepin' me level-headed Everything she does for me, vow to give it back Five-hundredfold, that's why I gotta get these racks Stacked up, I been procrastinatin' too long Most wonder why I haven't moved on From this fledglin' career, but I'm dead sincere This been my passion, since I - was prepubescent Above average intelligence, but a genius of burden Wasn't meant to be like Ben Carson, the brain surgeon But I ain't hurtin', I remain inclined To bless this world wit' the novels, art an' rhymes I design 10-5 told me the other day, I really got my craft down I'm happy someone acknowledges my crack now I don't do this shit for nothin'-- I love the accolades For the tracks I've made, a few have even got me paid An' there lies the key to a brighter future I hold that doorway in my hand, watch me write the future It's Fineprint...

"My Way" Yeah... just wanna see you draped in ya nakedness Maybe keep them heels on ya feet while I sex ya, miss Do my duty in the kitty; girl, I'm straight finessin' it Pope Fineprint, sanctus, sanctus -- baby blessin' it Whooo... yeah, I swear I'm all in my zone E'rytime we talk on the phone, just wanna get you all alone On some Robin Thicke shit, got my dick all throbbin' just to get in it quick Hit the clit wit' major force, you like it rough, we got the kismet Uh, yeah... we gon' break the board like a monster dunk Energized, feelin' like I'm Monster drunk Get me in my feelings, I'ma make love to it We gon' do it 'til you sweat out every ounce of protein fluid Uh... I gotta be a bit of a nerd But you know I'm still a roughneck, you ain't fuckin' wit' no herb Baby I'm saucin', like my swag got secret herbs An' I ain't talkin' no fashion, just these bars that ya heard Aye, say baby won't you come my waaaay Ain't no games that I'm tryin' to plaaaay You on my team, baby home or awaaaay There's nothin' more I've got to saaaay Finito...

"#SILENCE (For The King)" Verse 1: An' I'm still, blazin' this trail - barefoot Walkin' this harsh road, bleedin' liters e'ry square foot You can find me there in the trenches, kickin' on e'ry snare put Step on foes toes, no fucks given 'bout their foot In the field heavy like shotputs, encounter the gamble Where roses wit' thorns, lead to mountainous bramble An' - crabs will pull you down like slot machine levers I'm sick of the noise, so if it's not serene? Sever Needin' all that silence to think clearly Meditatin' on the act of leavin' y'all behind My goals - too big for goalies to get in there an' block Aimin' high an' still hit the net wit' a trick shot See... this not just 'bout havin' my wrist rocked But I pity those who don't want big money in Hip-Hop So it's silly to put the city on 'em an' get rocked Let 'em wallow in mediocrity, swallowin' cocks while they shit flop Verse 2: I'm still in line to burn 'em up, will not rest 'til my journey's up 'Fore I lie, catch a hernia; put ya' stacks an' ya journal up Steady puttin' that murder up, anyone will concur wit' thus Don't shit on the message, it's best to side wit' the courier Uhn, career funeral, got half a mind to bury ya' For all that shit you poppin', actin' like that crap will further ya' My heart's on hypothermia, love's not what you're worthy of Said this earlier: No fucks given; pro'lly blurred to ya' Let's keep it a buck: Ain't no one out here scared of ya' Just a bunch of pups wit' the bite of a toothless terrier So that should clear the air for ya', not one soul in ya' area Is threatened by ya' trash talk from behind a barrier Bein' successful is the best revenge A dish that's best served cold, ergo: Goin' Diamond But still accept Platinum, rhymin' adept fat hymns Slept on 'cause y'all slackin', disrespectin' an' yackin' Interjectin' wit' tantrums, I'll intellectually flatten Any jester in action; the texture of thee is satin Conceptually, you chicken shit, in the shape of a bantum The king is back, so kneel like Kaepernick wit' the anthem

"#CominFromThe901 (Crown Me)" Niggaz so fake, watch 'em break like plastic in the hand They can't stomach me, I corrode 'em, turn they gastric into sand Yeah, he on top now, but I'll be laughin' at ya' man Pretty soon, on ya' ave, from a Phantom, that's the plan See I talk to 'em tough, watch me punk 'em out wit' bars These niggaz couldn't make it wit' the munchkins out in Oz From a real grimey city, niggaz dumpin' out of cars The fuckin' 901, where they be pumpin' out the stars Think we ain't tough, or that the M's a safehaven Factually, you better off in "Nightmares" by Wes Craven Suggest you get low - like jet fighters strafe sprayin' They'll pop you, an' not care less; I'm just sayin' It's poverty an' drama, trauma an' depression All these factors mixed together equate heavy aggression Movin' on impulse, fixated to drastic measures Unregistered iron tethered to the hip, never severed The murders keep climbin', an' we only 8 months in 2016, let's annotate that then Since 2009, shit keeps gettin' thicker Basically since Herenton left office-- get the picture? Good an' bad days flicker like lights durin' thunderstorms Makin' most knuckle under an' conform The hood'll reform you if you were raised wit' good intentions Have you switchin' sides on ya' mission +Bad boys+ in the 9 wanna +shine/Shyne+ like The Commission Been this way since Project Pat was gorilla pimpin' Tellin' you get the fuck up off 'em like Gangsta Blac Keep somethin' tucked, don't get erased off the map See, I ain't a gangsta, but I ain't no joke either Don't have me makin' +choices/Choices+ like La'Chat an' T-Rock Shoutout to Proficient, see we been rockin' since Cross of Calvary The Mighty M.o.R-- don't cross the calvary Folks have often doubted me, but now I'm on the path to make it So - +when the smoke clears+, you gon' see +who run it+ A +Legend in the Making+, +tailor/Taylor made+ like +Da Undaground King+ Sendin' fissures thru the underground scene... Heh, kiss the ring an' fuckin' crown me...

"Bars Goin' Crazy (#CutTheCheck)" Verse 1: Cut from a cloth ya arms an' legs couldn't purchase Beauty's only skin deep, yet I'm bringin' it to the surface In my veins is the essence of flow, energy surgin' A walk in my shoes'll leave you fools bruised an' burnin' I see you - dudes ain't learnin', but I'm less concerned wit' Droppin' - repeated knowledge on that ass, that's earnest It's the return of the - "Legend in the Making": Blessed, awakened Fresh an' blazin', direct, on point, impressive an' amazin' Wrote this rhyme wit' Rihanna's vaginal fluids; too cocky Is Fine e'ry time rappin' his music Keep ya heads +spiralin'+ just like, "Uzumaki" An' ringin' wit' bats in ya belfry -- Lord, help me These streets wicked, poppin' more tops than Pringles So I urge you: Keep heat on ya' side, like shingles -- ugh I need registers to ring an' jingle, jewels to blind an' bling Proof of doin' my thing Hook(x2): Got them, bars ready an' they goin' crazy (Goin' crazy) Got them, bars ready an' they goin' crazy (So crazy) Got them, bars ready an' they goin' crazy So just cut the check an' pay me (Fuck the bullshit) Verse 2: Dumbin' it down a notch, might lose y'all niggaz An' the last thing I want is to confuse y'all niggaz It ain't really much else to prove, y'all niggaz Arms too short to box -- Foosball figures Who's y'all niggaz? Who juiced y'all niggaz? Pumped y'all heads up like Spalding vulcanized rubber Consult my rhymes, for the, bulk of lines smothered Wit' sauce, to live long an' prosper -- no, Vulcan sign, brother Forget that line 'bout - dumbin' it down I'm comin' around, loaded an' cocked; tongue is a pound Verbally dumpin' at clowns, comin' for crowns An' I ain't speakin' dental work, aimin' for ya mentalworks Let the Oowop pop, Doo-wop ya' head like Joc's do Bustin' like wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-lop-bam-boom Ain't no Glocks, it's tunes Swallow ya' pride, you obnoxious goons Hook(x2) Verse 3: Y'all are - not on my level, or my league -- get ya' brakes tweaked Print's like a firearm -- off safety He's - itchin' to blow, a pistol of chrome Shinin' an' glistenin', wit' a rubber grip on him though Cocked back, hair trigger wit' a fully loaded clip The hammer bang an' gray matter will stain like holy shit It's holy spit, but god isn't my title; I'm a seraph Verbally blazin', finish 'em off like a serif The words more +symbolic+ than Wingdings by Charles Bigelow Got 'em yellin' "Bomaye, nigga! Flow!" So I - kill 'em slow, like high sodium an' radon outputs You can sit ya crayon down, putz This bout is kaput, see Print keep it +live+, like I'm Chevy Chase an' you're not Got heavy base, a pure drop on the track, that's crack An' ya' ears receivin' this fix If you receivin' this mix, then you receivin' me goin' Dumber - than Keak Da Sneak an' 40 in a Scraper Bars goin' crazy, tweakin' more than faders I'm weak to borin' haters, but the speech is born of greatness

"The Fineprint Experience: #ThoughtsofaGIANT Pt. IV (64 Bars)" Open wide, focused more; opportunity can't knock, I'm a open door This deeper than rap, like a ocean floor; go for the gusto, what I'm hopin' for Spit hardcore rhymes til my throat is sore; Print on his grizzy like a open store On Black Friday, back to my way -- in need of so much more Not washed-up, chillin' on the shore, gettin' my mind right for the path ahead Path I dread, the road to riches, an' baddest bitches chillin' in my bed Got me a wifey, so you know, still dream 'bout models an' video hoes Shit I never had as a adolescent, on this journey, after blessings Ain't the tightest though my touch is Midas; 100 miles an' runnin' wit' arthritis That's a footnote, peep the asterisk, massive asshole, sweet ass to kiss No homo though, got a homo flow, 'cause it fucks wit' niggaz in they bung-a-hole Lot of butthurt, an' I won't say pause, all y'all pussy, claw guards on ya paws Body y'all, leave ya wrapped in gauze; light it all up like Farhenheit 451 - expose it all - like 9/11... prepare the flight Surrender now or prepare to fight, Team Rocket, Team Magma or Team Flare Grizzly, bitch, the meanest bear; sew the game up, leave no seam bare Crime scene cleaner, leave no trace there, when I body y'all like Gohan did Cell Hope my father hears, see yo' son did well; clobbered fears, make the bondange fail Shackles fall, the beast back an' raw, send 'em dashin' off like Usain Bolt 40 miles per hour, smiles turn sour -- that nigga 2 Chainz dope Ain't got ghostwriters, but skeletons in my closet wit' Edgar Allen hands, they write the darkest novels About my life, see I lost it; a walkin' Shady song +Til I Collapse+ an' lose the will to write an' make these songs I admit, lately I'm threatened by every flow I hear Feels like I can't keep up, cut the mustard, the doubt appears Prefer to rap about my life, it's real dark an' gloomy Most days are kind of mundane, they keep me real moody I'm snappin', irritated, goin' off on all my friends Whether they forgive a nigga, I guess that all depends Ain't got no place in this game, guess I'm the odd man out Take me back to 9th grade, feel like droppin' out Ain't new school or old school, I'm after school, this bastard's rude Hope my dream works/Dreamworks, like the family Croods; acquired taste, hope it captures you Some lines are corny, but they work for me, got steez to pull it off Wear a mask, can't pull it off, like Scooby Gang, let a bullet off Fineprint Experience firsthand, thin skin an' jelly spine Sometimes I feel like Ronnie Ray, hearin' voices, not Martin Stein They lapped me quick, not far behind though; just 2 inches behind yo Rugged Timbs, eat dust from him; two fingers thrown, but I'm not a gyno I know I ain't the illest to ever grace this beat But see I did my thing, strap in once you take a seat I is smart, I is important, but still I need +The Help+ All those who bailed on me, another notch in my belt I know I gotta go harder, if I plan on makin' it farther But these obstacles around, make me question why I bother I do this for my future, I need my self straight Gotta stand on my own two, get outta this stalemate I don't have a failsafe, so if I don't succeed There is no "don't succeed", I put that on my Mead Five Star, no five mics, deserve them for rhymes I write Starvin' for - limelight, flip fingers - mime type Middle fingers up, wanna bend the block, in a clean Bens, big body like Viscera Kit it out, TVs in the dash, watchin' anime wit' my chick, bruh Throw on some Marvin an' stick her, we got it get it on Dick her down like I'm Jake Steed, nut on a towel an' blaze weed If you pissed off, pass a kidney stone, King Print is in the zone Got a lot of envy, holmes, shit I'm learnin' to leave alone I gotta be more supportive, have all my people's backs Like they be havin' mine, that's just a straight-up fact I used this beat for expression, tryin' to calm the tyrant What you hearin' now - are thoughts of a GIANT Legend in the Making 4, pro'lly the last one 64 Bars atcha neck, nigga my ass done It's Fineprint..