Verse1
I came from the gutter now I´m gunnin´ for top
Burnin´ ya shop - my beats blowin´ up when it drop
Independently I rock when spittin´ game
Remain gettin´ change but the motto is still the same

B.A. got the ultimate brains breakin´ the chains
Ordained in the gospel of rap - preachin´ the facts
I´m black - bearin´ witness to that - Throw ya hands to the sky
My battle cry is high till the day that I day
I´m addicted to the rhyme ´cuz all the time I find
I´m rippin´ lines and fuck that i´m goin´ for mine
See I do it for the love - it ain´t about the papes
The dollars that I make be the icing on the cake
Playas can´t hate my game is bullet proof-
Songs droppin´ bombs on America´s youth
Burnin´ ya suit - Mash out the dollas and scoot
Droppin´ it hot- but not sellin´ out for tha loot

Verse 2

Now this is verse 2 let me keep shit clean
Hold up another minute you can see what I mean
Labels wanna play games its tha money that talk
I´m a bad muthafucka and I´m walkin´ tha walk
Wanna promote this pop shit rap and rock shit
Fake thug rappin´ on some fake as ´Pac shit
Shame how the mainstream lacks a brainstream
on each radio yo ya hearing the same thing
Say they wanna sign then they decline
With lines that there ain´t enough thug in tha rhyme
What a crime when you gotta preach killin to sell
I rebel - yo ya fake A&R and advance can go to hell
It´s all swell back at the ranch indeed
Droppin´ these beats for ´delph so i shall proceed
Might die for the prize so I´d damn sure bleed
No price on rippin´ mics you can fuck ya greed