[PP]
This is for the women who be askin bout the glory that we bask in
But when we don't get our dues, they Nicki laughin
I dedicate this to the hella fellas and the compliments they tell us
But only in secret, they don't want they homies getting jealous
For the ones who know the name and disrespect all the same
Thinkin it gon get you higher to us gods up in the game
Who be strokin pride and swallowing everything but their ego
Then talking shit about us to all our people, oh yea, we know
Asked to hear some real shit then took it to imposters
You ain't tryna pay producers, know that streets is watchin
Joni Mitchell bet you think this song is all about you
Comin' for a bad bitch's bag ain't an option
Change ya name to Chris the way that everybody hate you
Even with ya co-sign we still don't rate you
Lying on ya dick when a chick ain't wanna date you
Calling her a bitch then what that make you?
Oh I see the type of sucka that you is
You try to judge another for the type of stuff you did
You tell the same old lies, act like it's new shit
Stealing candy from a baby, on some "Fuck you, kid"
But don't forget about what happened to Icarus, rest in peace
He was talking wild & reckless out in Socrates' streets
Chest high talkin wild bout how HE was the one
Til he learned, and got burned by the gatdamn sun
So the moral of the story is if YOU think you hot
Before ya wings get clipped and ya body get drop
And achelies get cut, and ya spleen get splattered
All that talkin you was talkin a minute ago ain't matter
So dead the chitter chatter and stop fronting for the ‘gram
Or I'll assume you don't know just who the fuck I am
Cause Icarus thought he knew, but Gravity knew better
Ain't no horsemen gonna put you back together

[KF]
Pull up on a sucka like bow bow bow
Duck down
Squad pretty hittas ride sim-simma
Ride low key in a all black Bimma
Y’all know Keysh ain’t lookin for no beef
Mans in the street trynna teif Mera’s beats
Can’t afford a feat, homie whatchu mean
Until now we been super lowkey
That’s over
I need more beats I’m sober
Threats ain't light li’l homie
And when it’s time to write, li’l homie
You betta step to the right li’l homie
Act right li’l homie, dead the hype li’l homie
Cuz I’m nice li’l homie
And i dont need a mic, li’l homie
But yo, I’ll end ya whole life, li’l homie
I’ll have you home before the street lights
Ya’ll dont really know me know me
And you could ask Brodie, brodie
I’m boasy boasy with the bars
Everybody else comin’ at me subpar
And I wrote this right here in my car
So who wan war lil bih, mans in the comments
You ain’t got content; please stop talkin

[HM]
And I can't say that I ain't see it coming
I aim to be above it
But you a lame and yeah that secret's public
Poppin' like Thugger with a tweak of substance
Hot like the summer or a heated oven, I’m up you see I'm bubbling
You make me cry but I ain't peeling onions
This crazy life is straight revealing dungeons
It's scary, I’m so swayed I'm stealing pumpkins
My very sight is waived, I'm feeling punches
And yet I'm pacing but your heels are buckling
This pivotal structures a struggle, but I promise I'll win
I will dip you in the lava every song that I sing
I commit to bringing drama to the jaw of my kin
Talking shit and do it often is a promise I bring
And though I don't always do all the right things
I know you used to sucking dick - I don't swallow my sins
Suppose I blew you off the corner with a Llama to brain
Just 'cause you rude and out of order with a toddler brain
I get it poppin in the popular lane
I have a third inside my ocular vein
It's like you take me for a commoner, man
Bro I will break you down and twist you like an Oliver braid
You a snake, Mr. BOA, so imma constrict
You a slave to my poems and I am convinced
You wanna take my persona and Imma convict
Then Imma play my viola cause I am a bitch
Sad songs for sad people, you sad, brodie
You a sheep like mad people, that's BAH-loney
They say the spot at the top, usually mad lonely
But we going, no matter what, Just ask Brodie
Sorority yes, sorority pledge
I mean I already cut you off, to me you're already dead
You should leave it, you a comic, like illogical men
Paraplegic hope you down to lose an arm and a leg

[LL]
Wonder if we’ll ever reach the pinnacle of rap
We was set up in the kitchen: “cut the AC in the back”
Tried to make it off the internet, pray that they were feeling it
Me and P decided we were making this a fact
Gyro or a pizza special every single day
And another record written and some other vocals laid
My relationship it suffered and my friends just went away
Now all my music bumping, but my health is getting drained
Now they hate me
Everybody judge me but they ain’t me
Flip a couple bars, make another hundred angry
Get up on the cypher and they dropping hate around me
Never could they argue that a bitch ain’t wavy
Pay me or give me all the time for the work back
Driving round Jane better duck when they spit facts
I be making songs that they love for the kickback
Now I’m in the States doing shows and the shit’s packed
God bless the 6, and the Coast and my brothers, man
December over everything, cold when the winter came
Eating off of Youtube money these boys are killing it
Got everybody in the city, hard in their feelings, man
Keysh
Yo, I would die for this shit
Fuck around and take a life for these kids, uh-uh, yea
Been this team for a long ass time, and I’mma work till we get our shine
Best believe that

[HOOK]
Oh my my I don't know
Why why why
Did I ever mess with you
Oh my my I don't know
Why why why
You thought that you could play me (x2)