Lyrics

[Intro: DJ Rated R & GhostWriter] As we keep it movin', we still in here (Chyeah, GhostWriter, Ill Spoken) Ill Spoken still in here Let's go, man Yeah, yeah, ayo, look (Can't forget Fast Eddie Productions) [Verse 1: GhostWriter] Young scholar spittin' with the reckless mouth Spit it in the kitchen 'cause a nigga dishin' records out Finger-lickin' messages, verbal kick-back So I'm pistol-whippin' pessimists (Uh-huh) So get equipped with extra pins (Extra pins) I keep writin' without gettin' up to stretch my limbs (Stretch my limbs) Olympic bars, got 'em thinkin' I just left the gym I just left the gym (Yeah), realized how I spread my phlegm Fam, I define no comparison Wannabe tough guys, save me the embarrassment (Fuck outta here, man) Walk around, pistols on safety like Harrison Rodney, two points, you walked in Into Clue, oinks in your conversations You dine in swine, that's confirmation Wine and dine, fine vagine Shorty got to climbin' high (Uh-huh), shit was kinda dry Improvise, got inside her mind (Haha, hey, yo, look at this bitch) Ha, sike, I don't wine and dine shit Rhyme sick, pull my dick out in front of a blind bitch (Haha) You can't match the slang, lame, watch me max your pain Ill Spoken, number one stock in the rap exchange Speakin' for itself is my independent spittin' style Runaway lines, brutalize like a missin' child (Okay) I take shots at you rappers 'cause your shit is foul (Shit is foul) Killed the art, now I'm headin' a vindictive crowd Ya chick's friends with my dick, and it's her biggest pal It's always there to comfort her when she's feelin' down Dance with they vocabulary, smashin' every adversary [Interlude: Beedie & GhostWriter] Haha, ayo, Ghost (Beedie), let me get in this shit real quick Yo, yo, yo (Yeah) [Verse 2: Beedie] You say you gettin' paid, boy, you livin' the dream But you not livin' the life, you just wishin', it seems You ain't gettin' rid of no weight, you get rid of your cream Blowin' your whole re-up tryna sniffle with me Y'all is fake, hustlin', strugglin', listen to me I spit twisted lines quick (What?) that'll whittle your team (Little faggots) Ain't no need for name-callin' 'cause you know who you is, ho (You) 8 Mile, wow, probably listen to Sisqó (Haha) You Walmart booster, your shirts with the little Ecko That shit has been played out, homie, you need to let go Askin' me if the city gon' feel you, well, I don't think so The only lines and numbers that you runnin' is bingo Oh, you got a couple fat hoes at your shows (Woo) That ain't enough to make up for your wack flows and your clothes The whole crowd wishin' they could fast-forward, fa'sho (Fa'sho) They waitin' for The Ill Spoken when we go and it blow How High when I'm blowin' the O I mean the OZ, not a smoke ring, my head stash lookin' cozy So take a picture, I don't even need to pose (Click) Yeah, these streets is so cold, man, they frozen (Ha, yeah, yeah) [Interlude: Beedie, EZ Mac & GhostWriter] Ya dig? And that's what it is, motherfuckers (Yeah, yeah) Ayo, EZ Mac, wrap it up on these motherfuckers (What? What up?) [Verse 3: EZ Mac] Listen, I got a dime of haze, I'm about to get high today (Chyeah) It's just another damn case of some child's play (Haha) I write crack, spit straight freestyle Yay have you sittin' on your roof naked, yellin', "I am gay" (Homo) The nasty rapper, cat that'll smack ya pastor From massive laughter (What?), standin' on the rope and ladders Nothin' changed, smoke weed with an undeveloped brain I'm insane, a criminal before the first grade Shed your bibs, spittin' mad crack to kids Durin' naps, fill another kid's mats with piss And laugh (Ha) as a teacher, like a cat, would hiss Slap the bitch, told her she was fat as shit (Bitch) Put a middle finger up, and left class to spit (Fuck y'all) That's just a sidenote, like an asterisk (Haha) Power sucker fuckers lookin' for this ass to kiss The rap I kick, who bust open, crack ya lip Fat-lipped, lookin' like you just packed a dick I'ma run up in ya crib with a mask and wig Fast and sprint, grab a big bag of shit I'm immaculate as soon as this rap begins [Outro: Mac Miller & DJ Rated R] Yeah, y'all know what the deal is, homie (Chyeah) The Ill Spoken, The Scholars, GhostWriter, East End Empire We comin' up, homie, just get ready Rated R, DJ Diggz, Big Will Let's get it, man Can't forget, the button pusher, JBP, I see you