I´m gettin the ahh, I´m gettin the ahh from the
Weak shit that I hear no lyrical styles come near
To the one who boasts like Buck
On the mic truck, cuz I never gave a fuck
I hate the weak shit, man it be fuckin with my soul

I peeped how radio be trying to take control
Tellin me to get a little lighter on my lyrics
But if it ain´t real on the mic I can´t feel it
Straight from my bloodstream, I pump finesse
Nevertheless, hold it in your chest like stress
Rhythm and blues style is not in my environment
And when I "slowww dowwwn" it´s time to take a hit
But until I fall off, call off your set
And if you never knew me, then you never knew wreck
Look inside of the mind and see
Cause you might be trapped with a nigga like me

I feel like I´m trapped in the motherfuckin cave
To the rhythm I´m a slave, lookin in my grave
Jugular vein bustin out my neck, you see the rage
I move when I groove cuz I´m into, the stage

Of the Buckshot, black, I´m bringin it back
To the roots, like Timberland boots, home on my rack
And I don´t give a FUCK what you say
Commercial rap, get the gun clap, day after day
Niggas don´t play on the d low, kid you know my steelo
I roll on more niggas than cee-lo
We might just bumrush your set
Me AND my niggas on the real mic check
Like my nigga Smif gettin swift on the gift
Then I toss another lesson to my nigga Wessun
And my nigga Five from the tribe of Moon
Pass the Crooked I, bitch yo pass the boom
Whenever you´re ready I´mma take you into the stage
Deep in the mind of a slave