[Intro: E-Dot]
A little bit of blood, sweat, and tears. (OK!). A lot of love. And a whole lot of time, yo. Yo. Uh huh, uh huh. Y-yo
[Verse 1: E-Dot]
Yo, this is a lifetime's journey
This rap sh** is bad p**y, just aching to burn me
[?] cop an attorney
And all he does is read contracts. “Listen, crackhead
Pick up the phone, get in touch with a contact”
Get a n***a on because my jam Beyond@t
Yeah, yeah. I rhyme, let n***a produce the tracks
Nourished by pizza slices, cheap ghetto snacks
n***a, thirsty. Written with hard-as-metal raps
My EP. Where them critics who say I slack?
But them same muhf**as got n***as fiending like crack
For good sh**—I'm giving ‘em that
I'm that dope emcee, steady just giving ‘em dap
With a tongue. I'm f**ing up these tracks, dog. n***a well-
Hung. Got a lot of love, so get this real n***a
Some. Furnished by these chronic asthma lungs
I've been cheered, booed, pissed
Heard ‘em talking about me—motherf**ers are pissed
[But, sheep?], my records staying up in the mix
When I'm chilling in the cut, like, “sh**
What kind of [?] is this?”
[Hook: Ill Bill]
My all is all I gots to give
I'd rather get shot in the wig than ever stop or quit
f** anybody that ever said we're not the sh**
Because the wit always keeping it popping, b**h
[Verse 2: Breez Evahflowin']
Talk to the seeds in these parts of the woods
Swear up and down that it started with Puff and it started with Suge
Seeking for gains in the Garden of Goods
Thinking, “Man, I should have remained teaching art in the hood”
But you're without proof. Drum tracks without loops
n***as push jumb-cracks without loot? Not likely
This game will start f**ing with your psyche
I found it hard for n***as not to like me, do shows and not invite me
But now the crown doesn't entice me
Defending my craft until it knight me or knife me
Give it all I got like it's wifey, bringing it home
Stress my peeps with the sh** in my dome, put a beat to it
What else to do on your daughter's birthday and you ain't allowed to speak to her?
You tell me I'm not on the hustle day-in and day-out
My f**ing freestyle seemed to be my only way out
I never promised it would ever pay out. Call it a hope
And a prayer before I'm snared by the [call of the yoke?]
And I don't know where it gonna go. Another combo
E-Dot, Breez, and Beyond on the long road
[Hook: Ill Bill] (x2)
My all is all I gots to give
I'd rather get shot in the wig than ever stop or quit
f** anybody that ever said we're not the sh**
Because the wit always keeping it popping, b**h
[Bridge: Loer Velocity]
So what the deal? What you saying, god?
[Verse 3: E-Dot]
On the real, I can't call it
I look for schemes to get some papers in my wallet
So much, I want it. On the real, I can't afford it
Go to work [for my dad, sure?], but then I [sported?]
Went to university for five years, lordy
Left me with varieties of a**orted
Debts and bounced checks, a future that looks horrid
sh**'s so real, the lion feel my courage
Music is our mind state, dog—remain a purist
Don't judge myself. I judge who takes the art the furthest
Meditate to a wordsmith, written with a purpose
[?], Junior, Curtis
Word. “Hey, hey, hey, E-Dot, work it”
Go to my job, a live performance in a circus
“Yo, Errol, think we got a short within our circuit
Tuck in your shirt, kid. See what you can do about it”
I'm thinking, “f** you!” I wish that I could shout it, but I can't
‘Cause beats hasn't paid off yet
And I cannot live with regrets, survive without my checks
Need financial independence—n***a, f** collects
[Hook: Ill Bill] (x2)
My all is all I gots to give
I'd rather get shot in the wig than ever stop or quit
f** anybody that ever said we're not the sh**
Because the wit always keeping it popping, b**h