[Verse 1: Laws]
Nobody knocking at the door, nobody ringing the bell
So I may as well head to LA's, let my pen blaze
On a blank page, straight raise Hell, oh well
I been taking more L's than a burnout, both pockets turned out
On some cartoon sh**, me and L ain't getting no studio love in Tampa
So we built our own booth, sh** so I'm thumbing through some old Latin records
Too tired nowadays to make beats so I looped it
Did a track called Where My Horns At?, knowing that I had something
‘Cause my girl said it's stupid, then I get an email from my boy Slop
He up in Rawkus and he got an A&R spot
And some people up there think your boy hot
I need ten tracks man, what you gon' drop?
[Hook: Paul McCartney]
Someone knocking at the door, somebody ringing the bell
Someone's knocking at the door, somebody's ringing the bell
Do me a favor, open the door and let ‘em in
[Verse 2: Laws]
So despite the politics of the biz, I'm sort of working with a major
So I'm feeling kinda giddy about it, should've seen a red flag
When I logged online to a site and some people was talking sh** about it
How they promoting 50 cats? Man, they got a point
Swallowed all my doubts, went to L's made the joints
Got a double XL ad with my name in it, L cut it out the mag
And gave me a frame with it, headed to a show with some of the other 50 cats
Had to dip early ‘cause my girl was feeling sick
And that shouldn't have been a problem, didn't think they'd try and play me
But weeks go by and they still never paid me, feeling extra angry
Can't do nothing, Rawkus ain't promoting, no one having discussions
Till I get a message from Rook with the J.U.S.T.I.C.E League
Said he heard that Horns track and he loved it man
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Laws]
And your boy is a soldier, oh, I thought I told ya
Year goes by, sending tracks back and forth till my dream realize
He rejecting so many, I'm thinking that he hate me
Until he says even DeNiro needed Scorsese
And I go and deliver Your Future Favorite Rapper
Five thousand downloads, things moving faster
Shows outta town, all the memories are captured
Phone call from Rook, these labels wanna get at ya
Then he gives this news to me, got to think my sk**s are above and beyond
And that my words are powerful as Martin Luther
Barely remember times when I was feeling down
And right after the pa**ing of brother Michael
I rocked my first Atlanta audience and now these suit and ties
Like open the door, I think it's time we let ‘em in
[Outro: Laws]
Yo wait, hold up, they wanna give us how much?
Oh, full creative control? Man, we ain't even sat in the studio yet homie
We getting offers and stuff, we didn't do hot mail like...
I think we owe like the internet a check, you know what I'm saying?
Alright, they got my show ready for the Grammies
I'mma hit you when I touch down, one