[Verse 1]
Mic check 1,2, soundbombin it/ like I’m Rawkus in the later 90’s, so prominent/ stay dominant like a seventh chord, with no strings attached/ they boy’s from the backstreets so please relax/ or get ya caps peeled like I’m native to the flats, flat-lined/ you couldn’t be a player if you had a tech nine, so respect mine/ don’t expect my decline, NOFX on my lines/ since hip hop became so safe/ swapped the round-tipped scissors with serrated blades/ in the cut for days/ and won’t stop til I get my wage/ for killin’ shit, ‘cause I heard crime pays/ no slave to the majors, “mmm, what ya savor?”/ the sweet taste of victory like a now-and-later/ Now I’m gone, “see you later”/ only started with a little gold and a pager, but so much flavor/ hey bruh, you ever seen a punk rock hip hop?/ drop a “hey, ho! Let’s Go!” “and it don’t stop”/ drop a needle on a record, spit a flow to be reckoned/ from a two-step to a mosh pit any second/ I don’t work, then I don’t eat/ that’s why I think Black Thoughts like I’m Tariq/ and break padlocks when I’m zonin’/ watch ya back when you’re at the stairway to heaven, the omen//

[Hook]
You’ve got the hate face on,
I hear the same damn song,
Anytime when you’re around,
it’s all bullshit/
I’m not playin’ with you,
Please don’t say you’re confused,
When I see you with your hand by the radio,
I might lose it (break it up, break it up, break it up)//

[Verse 2]
(This is not a love song)/ it’s fueled by football and beer pong and might catch fire if a tear’s on it/ (this is not a club song)/ closer to a scene from teeth, so try to grind to it, hear the screech?/ now that’s what I call blood on the dance floor/ and have the cat wipe it up with his own jansport/ understand that my car is my temple/ if you want to play that bullshit, ride in a rental/ we on that boom bap to bomb the system/ like Marcus Garvey with paint and ink pens/ I’m Banksy in the vocal booth and bang the shit that’ll tell the truth/ or say “fuck it” and put on some Foo/ it gets rugged when we bump some Wu/ and just laugh when the cops come through/ play Ante Up, I’m unstoppable/ trust me, yea, it’s that simple/ you ain’t finna hear Alejandro/ comin through my window/ I ain’t tryin’ to impress a chick by playin Taylor Swifts’ latest hits/ matter of fact, if you even think of tryin to change my shit/ I’ll leave you and ya I-Pod out in the Sticks//

[Hook]