Verse 1:
Spray a shot, any shot, pray it hits the feds
Stay mislead, might as well sh** the bed
While the cops keep the pistols fed
A shark tank full of minnows in the midst of dread
We raise a fist instead
Ya'll need to relax, lean back
A crack baby asking mommy where the fiend at
A bald man asking daddy where the weave at
Sean Kemp asking everyone where the seeds at
It could happen, so raise your hands
Till there's angels in the outfield and fans in the stands
Till the last speck of sand from the hourgla** lands
At the bottom of the barrel where the crabs stay damned
Damn, time has pa**ed, Pat Sajack or an A Dat
Straight wack, matter of fact take your tape back
Set it off, right out the window and replace that
Auto tune the top ten, where the cakes at
Snap, you stay upon the nut sack
f**in' muskrats, you're fodder for the blood bath
I keep it dirty son, shown me where the muds at
A freedom fighter, show me where the f**in' scuds at
I called dibs on the biggest porridge bowl
Leave the scraps to the kids
These wolves don't give a f** about survival of the pigs
We'd rather blow the house down, pa** the bib
Chorus:
What I meant to say is that I really really care about it
Can't live without it, I'll shout it, and don't you ever doubt it
I feel it flowing through my veins
Jake one got the beat pounding, Zazen got your street surrounded
Verse 2:
Never fold, hold cards close to the chest
Digress, try to guess who dies next
Leave it to chance, roll the dice, check the timex
Countdown, you better enjoy the mind s**
Addict of pa**ion, pray for a reaction
Instead they're all pa**ing by, I'll throw a dollar down
Give a man a pound, teach him how to break bread
Pay attention kids, this is how a baller sound
Get my weight up, watch you get your hate up
Haven't sold a record, still pulling out the pay stub
Pursue the dream even if it doesn't pay enough
Breaker breaker one, nine to five, say what
Lockjaw, try to figure out what the cops are for
Serve and protect who writes the checks and not yours
Circle around the sky in helicopters
Blood on the floor, revolution in your sock drawer
Hell naw, ya'll done up and done it
You're following the lead of Mr. John Q. Public
Wash it down with big macs and chicken nuggets
Sop the floor, toxic mops in your bucket
f** it, I'm just being honest, I promise
So many calls from Sallie Mae it's like I'm haunted
Don't have the hundred bucks today but she still want it
Take out another loan just to floss and flaunt it