Lyrics
Yeah, what up?
It's Dragon, baby, it's all love
It's about to be track two
I rock a microphone tool
While I'm still in school
Yeah, never dropped out the race
I just beat my case up, while I'm laced up
Brothers getting placed up in a category of fakeness
Can't look me in my face, uh, huh
But I bring the heat regardless, with the words from my breath
I never sleep 'cause, sleep is the cousin of death
And naps are an affiliate, so I'm not feeling it
But I still kick it with the Grim Reaper while he be killing shit, yeah
Merciless with my plays, Mercedes-Benz days
'Cause I got miles to go before I pass away
Yeah, Frost poetic, never synthetic
Yeah, I keep it authentic, so Fremont can represent it
Magic, if you felt it, then tap in
So we can make a classic
Commentary & Analysis
The line "I rock a microphone tool" is better than a casual flex; it makes the mic feel engineered, like something Rohan is learning to operate while still in school. That tension is the charm of the track: young voice, serious self-mythology, and a real instinct for turning roughness into identity.
The sleep and death run is genuinely sharp because he does not just quote a famous idea and move on; he extends it into naps as an "affiliate," then personifies the Grim Reaper like someone he can sit beside. It is funny, dark, and disciplined at once.
The Fremont bar matters. Rohan is not only saying he can rap; he is placing the record somewhere. That makes the track feel less like anonymous internet bravado and more like a local source document with a name, city, and attitude attached.