[Black Thought] Yeah, you so clich´, you´re the nouveau riche To come up hard as a youth and knew no peace You hit that lick, you switched to a new motif In a whip with two low seats and new gold teeth
You say you wanna live fast, gettin´ paid in cash Puffin´ the most gas and dyin´ of car crash You never learned math in school, you cut class So you can´t count, what´s in the clip? You just blast I feel your mind spinnin´ in place and just bufferin´ And all you´re tryna see is some place with less sufferin´ But make a lot of big blue faces, it´s just hustlin´ What could I say that you would embrace, I guess nothin´ This isn´t in attempts to reach you and your hitters The last thing you do is bullshit a bullshitter The streets is a bitch, you up in the club with her
You should cease and desist, but you too in love with her, yuh
[Black Thought & Conway the Machine] Who passed the baton like a drum major of Howard We transfer the power for salt water and flower My pen packs a dawah, Akira Kurosawa My ideas is gunpower, secure the tower That overlooks a graveyard full of cancelled niggas Who paid ransoms when they made handsome figures Guilt and bad business´ll make a man religious I´m the difference of where Stanford and stand for biggers Save the revelry if you tryna lower level me I be over seventy, flippin´ the script regularly Know the L holder ´bout to be you instead of me Why, ´cause you a dick head, I´m a Dick Gregory
Send in every opponent, disciplinary notice Ulterior motives begin pure as a lotus Even if uncertain, I bet you I´d never showed it If you checkin´ for me to choke, I suggest you adjust your focus (Yeah)
[Conway the Machine] Look, they heard me rhyming, they wanna know where to find me at The grimy cat from the main street trenches insomniac Three in the mornin´, lurkin´ in that Pontiac Where I´m from, you gotta take your pole even when you go to the Laundry mat (Keep it on you) Niggas tryna line me, but I had time to react We spend the same day and the day after, we slyin´ back (Uh-huh) Empty the mop in broad day and leave somebody wacked
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) He tried to run, three or four shots, hit him inside his back (Brr) And that go for anybody that rap That Buffalo nigga that catch the bodies wack (Ha) Hol´ up, rewind me back (Cap) They heard me rhyming, they wanna know where they find me at The grimy cat from the main street trenches insomniac Three in the mornin´ catch me inside the trap (Huh?) Knockin´ off a ninty pack right by the door where the MAK-90 at (Uh-huh) After the deal the label still wanna sign me back The contract worth a few mill´, but I ain´t signing that (Hahahaha)