Bodyweight (Lift Myself Up)

Yo my shit don't fit the same I'm losing bodyweight Don't ask me for advice At 5, I wake and harmonize About my sexual drives Like they got scratched in Data mine, determine Structure, algo, rhymes Fuck a loading program, I write programs Python 3.6.2 Feel like a radio station 'cause you gotta stay in the tune In the news to be relevant Why would I walk in your shoes Why would I be concerned about a Jew exec Came in this game I won't make an exit Count up the money do it in Excel Can't use my hands I'm rerouting this bank in corporate shells Still legitimate You see the front But not the backend I'm hitting them both Back when I was nobody catching zero bodies That pressure got lifted Now I'm catching bodies 'cause I'm lyrically gifted You catch my drift We were in the same boat Upgraded the membership, I done got us on a cruise boat Fighting, fighting for life Comparative to my parents I'm a cog machine like Yao Ming POV on my money I'm tall as Beijing POV everyday just feel like baecation If I didn't wake from this dream I'm sweating, pulsating while I'm fighting Satan Don't know my next move 'cause I'm switching the cadence Knockout, give you a blackout I treat the game like Call of Duty Black Ops (DEFCON 3) No family tree prepare the military I treat my opps the same like symmetry Eating these rappers was built in my genes But I'm on a beef diet And you know that I keep trying To cover my loss hopefully make a gain Hope I never ever see you again I'm Charlie Puth in this booth Making hits, give me that silver spoon After all I was born In a coup (d'état) I was born to go boom (dun dun) But I'm pro diluvial, half delusional You'd think I'm a bomber but I raised the bar Call me a terrorist, Allahu Akbar Let me tell you the reason why I'm losing weight I'm self-destructive, I'm destructing away Watching my dreams fade away Knowing that I gotta prove myself this holiday 'Cause my mama won't take crap She'd fight me if were to rap like we in the same weight class After all I came out of her The day after she had changing class, 101 I was born in Jan The poverty stricken month of months Eating tin foods, peanut butter, jam Dance the pain to these different jams You can dance, you can jive I've changed at last, I hope that it lasts I hope God can tell I don't wanna call a hooker and give her a time and place at the same hotel