[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