Bammers is trippin... vacationin you see they way off they mind,
With no return ticket,
This how here go,
This how here different,
That's why I'm so annoyed,
That's why I here whispers,
Call me a product of my own damn hood,
Since nautical was popular than popular for good,
Reason I'm good,
Reason I stuck with the sound,
I ain't playing like the rest who got free from it,
I grew up on circuit boys and go-go music,
A couple others but I feel they less important to me,
The point is they pointed,
Me in the direction of my home grown noises,
Of a artist I loved yet avoided,
Imitated out-of-toners wasn't going well,
And I ain't going well,
I jive like bone,
Them fast songs was cool but I never wrote to 'em,
Only concern was the home that was close to him,
I style, I slang and I own music,
If I could hone my tone I could blow too,
So I phone Tony Craig and I said we gonna do it.
And that we did...

(Hey damn was that alright? Damn smack everythin sound good, we gonna keep it... Next Verse)

A lot of rappers sound like a lot of rappers,
Sound wise... oh they started puttin' out now,
They puttin out the same blueprint,
So pun... it's no new shit and it ain't no fun,
It's no fundamentals it's one dimensional,
One can mention ones self and it'd be too pretentious,
And to pretend as if Tupac is not these dudes intentions,
Pay attention if you should listen to his shit and they shit it's too convincing,
As well as Chris-to-pher we miss her,
But every march night another twenty is with us,
Clones... imitators known,
For imitatin the off switch like I'm on top of my own,
And they copy what's on,
And copy what's hot until that goes cold,
The one that breaks more is that last to get on,
But usually will last cause the last stick is on,
And firm his beliefs... his heart made of stone,
Opposers try to knock but harder he will go,
Never can he mimic... maybe can admire,
Never will he imitate another rap nigger,
I am Wale and never can I vacate,
Never can I straight face,
Look at Wale and say you nothing but a biter,
Not the end lighter or liason to the niggers that's grindin,
Niggers that's reading,
Niggers that's runnin,
Niggers that scheming,
Niggers on merlin,
Niggers on DC,
Niggers who ain't seen beef,
To niggers in the knee deep who you think keep peace... me,
And I'm free free free...

(Wale Folarin mixtape about nothing, but really I am saying something, y'all all bluffin... keep coming)

Even if I ever leave now,
If I ever bleed DMV you hear it when I speak,
You can hear it in my lyrics,
And even when you old and your hearing is incoherent,
You can feel it via spirit,
Via my inheritance speakin as I did it,
Via niggers rep spreading speeches through the city,
The outskirts listen,
The outskirts distribute my vision contributing to the burns I position,
The thugs say I'm cool,
The cool say I'm thug,
The mercs screaming at me saying I'm Emmi Loater's son?
I am not the only one,
In the city where the Burns magazines say I'm in,
I don't really give a fuck,
DC lovin ya,
I don't want it on my back,
And they label me King... you can come and take it back,
I don't want no fucking crown,
I don't need no fucking currency,
The Kings get killed very least overthrown,
I'm a thorough ass nigger I don't need a nigger to hold me,
Even if I roll I'm a forever going to be home,
See there no place better than the state of my mind,
There's no time wasted and no vacations... Bitch.