DJ Muggs x Rome Streetz
High Explosive
Get fucking smoked
Smoked n***a

[Verse 1]
Ayo
It's the high explosive (Uh huh)
Buy and fry your mind with a dosage
If I go they nose drip, fold and dope-sick
Yo forever po-po can blow dick (Fuck ’em)
I squeeze the can' to Uncle Sam for Sandra Bland, on some free smoke shit
My lifestyle wild illegal slash slightly woke
With a splash of punch you in your mouth fast, like a Floyd jab (Uh huh, yeah)
Your arms too short to box, B
I only like her if she pretty, hot, thick and knock-knee
Freak like Roxy
Seen who dreams die from gangbanging and oxies
Envious eye idiots with palms on they pistol grips
If you lit, it's smart for you to act like you ain’t got shit (Stay low)
Play it lowkey like Fritz and reap the benefits
These n***as, they be bootleg, don't keep it 10 Benjamins (Frauds)
They love you more, when your body boxed in your grave plot
Earn my spot, this ain't fall out the sky like a rain drop (Nah)
Been through it, highs and lows, college and cocaine spots
These n***as copyin', tryna do the shit that I be on
They just some low frequency, fool-fraudulent, maricóns
Word to mommy, me and Muggs cooked the bomb to body y'all (Body y'all n***as)
Kamikaze how I popped it off, this the hottest sauce
N***as talkin' like they poppin', not at all (Nah)
You cut from a novice cloth
I pop you, slide off then scream "mazel tov" (Ha ha)
Congratulations, for cash I left your mask gaping (Brap)
I’m him, Iceberg Slim with a splash of Jason
I’m the illest, none of you fags adjacent (None of y'all)
Nah, not even close, I got it all like Inspector Gadget coat
Rap and trap, move the music like a bag of coke
Fiend the world the fuck out for the cash we gross, n***a (Fuck outta here)
[Hook x2]
Stylistic, for the money pile I had to risk it (Had to risk it)
Even in the darkest times remain optimistic
Stayed on my grind, knew that I would pop with this shit (Knew it)
Saw the signs and read the writings on the wall like hieroglyphics

[Verse 2]
Somewhere in between a record contract and a Rikers cop
My mind is like a rifle, knock the Ragu out of writer’s block
Exercise the right to do what I do if it's right or not
To eat food and put rice in a pot, I had to do a lot (Had to do a lot)
Got no love for snakes I'm deeply rooted in a righteous plot
Still a breakdown off of the unit, 500 of wop (Soul assassins)
Full metal jacket, with practice, quick take apart the Glock
On point like a archer shot
That's why we disregard the garbage that you other artists drop
It ain’t hard as this
Hear the jargon that I put on disk and you know God exist
I'm Bruce Leroy whippin' Sho-Nuff fast with the charged fist
Fuck the game up, can't fix this blowin' in the cartridge (Nah)
For digits n***as flip quick, put something in your cartilage (Brr)
Heavy smoke like six cigars lit
When I draw it's arson
Honest

[Outro]