[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