Verse 1:
n***as acting like they kings
'Til I walk up on their throne
Take a piss against the ring
Though it hurts no it stings
Red alert on the bing
Flocka Home!
The kid misdirected and the cops are wrong
Man they rattin' on each other
Then they back at home
Actin like it never happened
Back stabbin' woah
What's next? Another rapper dead?
No flex, I'm going at your head
Who the best?
Cut your neck
Closed mouths never get fed
Take the food off your plate
Chew it in your face
I can't hear your sh**
Moment of silence
Condoning the violence if you proposing an uprising
They fan base mad I k**ed their favorite rapper
I'm still your favorite trapper's favorite trapper
f** freestyles
k** them with the written rhymes
And all you coke head rappers better get in line
No subliminals
I'm the rag, getting off
Your clique is soft
Let your b**h kick it with a boss
We're two people from the bottom
Just in different lanes
Cole I feel your pain
Feel like I was born again
This is the tiger and the lion
This is David and Goliath
This is Koran and Bible
This the pistol and the rifle
In the cypher I ignite you
Its a cold f**ing world And I'm sneezing bricks
And we got great tickets on my season sh**
Lay them chickens down and we season it
Repress it and send it
That's an easy flip
Crush my enemies
b**hes envy me
Now its business entities
It was meant to be
Squad life 'til they sentence me to centuries
Can't get to me
I handle sh** differently
We never had sh**, wonder why we lootin'
And he 'ain't got a pistol, why the f** he shootin'?
I think the d** pollutin' should have stayed a student
But then I wouldn't be on stage handing out the blueprint
Holla at the movement
I'm about to lose it
But I do lay it down and there's no f**in' movement
They be like Flock what the f**'s up with him
Nothin' new just low key rappers don't want to see me win
Fifty thousand for a verse
I don't need a friend
And I don't really like your music, why need to pretend?
And how you gang banging after you famous?
Half of you brainless
You rappers are aimless
You rappers are an*s
I'm clapping the stainless
This accurate aiming is dropping names and
It's a new world order
Made a dollar out of quarters
Made dollars off of quarters
Now these shows across the borders
And they slaughtering our daughters
And they k**ing all our sons
It 'ain't just for fun
We used to put our hands up and box on the block
Now you put your hands up and get shot by a cop
I sat first cla** by Donnie McClurkin
He said god got a plan young man keep working