[Verse 1: Vultcha]
Every day, we walk
The same street, the same corner that smells of St. Ides
Simply staying alive, we see the world through the same eyes
The daily question’s what we got, have or have-not
If you ain’t out to get mines, then I’m out to get ours. Use no
Excuse to be sour. Black people used to be power, quick with a fist
Now who cowers? See po-po every hour. They know the spot
Like, “Who doesn’t?” Over my block, steady buzzing, and I know that
They know who runs it but they ain’t there when the guns lift. Well, let me
Pack a steel weapon in leather coat when I’m stepping, and I get
Frisked down, patted, slapped with fake charges and questioned
We’re here to live, we forget it, so all my kid beef got deaded. I got no time
For who said it, drive-by with TECs and jetted. Never been caught
Or arrested, so God-blessed plus repented. When evil thoughts
Was invented, return to sender with vengeance. In every
Ghetto and jungle, they keep the wisdom that humbles, so Shaitan
May make me stumble, my foundation can’t crumble

[Hook: Vultcha]
We ain’t
Racist but we ain’t-gravity
‘Cause these streets can’t hold me down, I’m carefree, and if
You ain’t trying to win, then it must be me, and there’s
No place I’d rather be
[Verse 2: Kev Roc]
Yeah, no limit edition
Life under condition, let it escape by morning shots, rhymes
Have risen our right to blossom, charge the harvest I plot, accounts
Be dysentery, none of them ill ideologies sterile, don’t give
A care of how you bust it down or how you made your bail
Kemetic in origin, thus highly advanced my psyche
Every direction, record label rap/wrap more flavors than Nike
[?] so many
Different dues in this, I got a refund coming in

[Verse 3: Rodan]
Flashing
Godbody members resembling powers by birthright
Meticulous flows maintaining and kept the verse tight, representing
Two-thousand bare-knuckle flavors—taste mine
Animating air molecules through sounds like a bassline
Record labels waste time. Eye industrial, rocking Casbah, spitting
Plasma, verbally giving microphones asthma
Lyrical jabbing ya, pugilistical rhyme cannibal swinging
A one-two piece, cracking both of your mandibles

[Hook: Vultcha]
We ain’t
Racist but we ain’t-gravity
‘Cause these streets can’t hold me down, I’m carefree, and if
You ain’t trying to win, then it must be me, and there’s
No place I’d rather be
[Verse 4: Vultcha]
First, they be
Making excuses, holding the knot to our nooses. Numb from our
Gins and our juices, proud to be wild like a deuce is, though inside
We be crying, weakness screw-facing and eyeing, staring at fear
At least trying, stereotypes multiplying, creating
Surround-sound, sheep-cloning unleashed on every downtown
Uppercuts in the budget keep us KO’d and knocked down
But still alive like our hopes and never drop like the soap ‘cause every
Champ had to struggle to get up off of these ropes

[Verse 5: MF DOOM]
Give me a challenge, combo left-right, balance
Keep him on his toes with flows, erupt violent
Volcano hot-molten, twenty-four karat golden
With different techniques passed down from the
Olden days and times. Take a hit, they not
Fazing mines. He came with these most amazing rhymes
Look like he got hit by a razorback. See, this is no
Player’s trade like playing freeze-tag stuck with a razorblade

[Hook: Vultcha]
We ain’t
Racist but we ain’t-gravity
‘Cause these streets can’t hold me down, I’m carefree, and if
You ain’t trying to win, then it must be me, and there’s
No place I’d rather be