Verse 1:
DKE coming back; yeah, we running it back
Oh yeah, you heard that; I rhymed back with back
So if we're so smart then where's it at?
Behind the A and the T if you ask my dad
We don't keep it 100, not even 110
DKE POV: infinite percent
Peep in the rear view, and see the wake extend
So real, yet deep, the Mariana of Trench
With drip like a faucet in a winter freeze warning
Fresher than a shirt just after laundering
Purely authentic, fully hearted, clear eyed
This beat: one receipt that makes us bona fide
For a quatrain of years we been sailing stars
Pandemic might as well been a mission to Mars
At times it seems like all hope was lost
But never fear, cause your ears are now filled with sauce

Chorus:
Bona fide
Get real, authentic appeal, we got no ill intent
Bona fide
Sincere, without a veneer, neither specious nor counterfeit
Bona fide
Been around, used as a noun, since 1665
Bona fide
Getting down, with our singular sound, yeah we're bona fide

Verse 2:
I’m the P. H-E-S-S-I-AN
If I wasn’t, then why would I profess I am
Behind tangy bars requiring a zest exam
So addictive, it’s illegal to possess a gram
From parts unknown, weight: 11 stone
Ring the bell; it’s for the belt; give me the microphone
Only one set of sitbones fits on that throne
Make ya tap like Sandman Sims before long
Unique, boutique, hip-hop’s true black swan
Spawning simulacra like Ghengis Khan
Don’t sell us short or a squall of margin calls
Grand mal, will rain down until your funds are all gone
Sign the Ulysses contract; burn the boats
Siren songs don’t phase my frontal lobe; it’s a moat
Like Leopold Bloom consumes whole goats
I’m getting on to the sonic autobahn full-throat

Chorus:
Bona fide
Get real, authentic appeal, we got no ill intent
Bona fide
Sincere, without a veneer, neither specious nor counterfeit
Bona fide
Been around, used as a noun, since 1665
Bone fide
Getting down, with our singular sound, yeah we're bona fide

Verse 3:
DKE’s the club here but it ain’t for fighters
And faith over fear, unless it’s a spider
My tangibles so clear but cannot be measured
And I have not one peer so there ain’t no pressure
Toast this jam at delis; LeBron would be jelly
We’ll go so viral, white blood’s on my celly
We’ll share this out; yo, we ain’t Martin Shrkeli
You’re listening now so you have it already
Look, no joke like your momma comma so imma ad hominem and
Attack this track like I’m fries with ranch dip
I can’t quit dunking on em; going hard in the paint
Like Bob Ross on canvas: The Joy of Stanzas
Then I rhyme bilingual, cogito: ecartes-Day
Modern: etrarch-Pay, my pen is so arp-shay
Natural: emarck-Lay, the charm of an ark-quay
I yolo each hour til the diem is arpe-kay’d

Chorus:
Bona fide
Get real, authentic appeal, we got no ill intent
Bona fide
Sincere, without a veneer, neither specious nor counterfeit
Bona fide
Been around, used as a noun, since 1665
Bona fide
Getting down, with our singular sound, yeah we're bona fide

Outro:
Bona fide (get real)
So Right (get hype)
Bona fide (get real)
That's tight (1665)

Bona fide (get real )
Get hype (so tight)
Bona fide (get real)
For life (for life)
We're bona fide