[Intro]
I could be like Hopsin, bitching 'bout the creator and shit
But if Tyler taught me anything, the creator's full of shit
And as a man, I acknowledged it, back in 9th grade
When I finally took my first hit, Ha
[Verse 1]
All around me, I see these rappers claiming they eating
But bitch your just a baby, boohooing cause you're teething
And Oracle is busy doing all your breast feeding
Caressing your mommy's breast is the best, next to reseeding
I would claim to be rap's new father-figure
But that would stop all of your albums from getting all them figures
And I'm the Giver, giving Jonas knowledge as his fixture
Maybe throw some Oxy in to compliment the mixture
Take a photo with this O before I synthesize my lungs with it
Drugs on top of drugs, snuggling with guns and shit
But if you wanna see, I'd take a fucking picture
Cause a day with Oracle equates to an elixir
Now blister up you Rick Rossing, shit talking
Lame squawking, shame walking, 2 Chainz listening
Beat flossin
Faggots, fakes and Phonies, take a seat before you feel my hand
Smack up on your face, damn straight, this is my place
I'm winning
[Hook 1]
I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning
Zac Oracle
I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning
Smoke Weed
[Verse 2]
Revelence is prevalent, so tell me how is Weezy still relevant?
Hell if I knew, as if knowledge was my element
Intelligence and hate and boredom, mashed up with elegance
I'm at the park vaping, making rhymes is my new preference
This rap scene's been begging for a new Shady
And by this rap scene I mean them white teens getting spacy
But the second that a rapper steps up that's not Logic
Mac, MGK, Yelawolf, Damn there's no profit
Yet somehow RiFF RAFF is still making a million dollars?
And I'm still in Bristol just tryna get a fucking holler?
And rapping like a fucking East Coast hiphop scholar
It's times like these, make you wonder why a fucker bothers
I'm here because this rap game needs a new Messiah
A dorky looking, shit talker, spitting hella fire
Give these fuckers the lyricism they all desire
I am God, waging Armageddon, Fuck a pacifier
[Hook 2]
I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning
"That man is high!"
I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning
Ugh!
[Verse 3]
From the home of Meek Milly, rep the city, living Philly
But if your not a brother of mine you better get some cover
Or get discovered by my rude ass, slashing tires, wired
Off an addie, trashed and smashing rappers, spiting hella fire
"But Oracle, ain't you a scholar and a good kid?"
Damn right I'm a scholar, have been since all of the Syd
But the only time I was ever called good was at my crib
When I was dipping dabs and getting did, she flapped her gab until I jazzed
So back the fuck up off my game if you ain't got no flames to spit
Or get hit with a taste of whit like ticks in a moshpit
Oracle don't need rap, but rap surely needs him
I'm not even going hard and you fuckers accuse me of going in
If spitting some prophecies given from god to me honestly shows me
No money trees, tell me please
How is this deity getting green? tell me please
How is this deity getting fiends for his D?
Bitch please, I don't need to flow tight, cause when I write
God comes through my pen, my words are channeling his might
I'm winning
[Hook 3]
I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning
Zac Oracle
I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning, I'm winning
Fuck Ferguson, fuck the police
[Outro]
Yo, fuck Hopsin
He's a fucking bitch, always complaining about bullshit
No one gives a fuck man
Boul grew up on a cornfield man, fuck him
Yo, fuck Macklemore, Kendrick deserved that award
Fuck that shit, your shit was nowhere near Good Kid m.a.a.d City
Don't even try to diss, you Seatle Wannabe bitch
Yo, and fuck RiFF RAFF too man
He's giving white rappers bad names and shit
Fuck that guy
