[Verse 1: Wiki]
These herbs take my verses for granted
Every verse deserves a purse with a grand and
A hearse with a handsome
I purchased a bandage for those that
Ain't heard of the damage I bring
I sing verses that merk off your manner
Think you polite
Picked up by the police, to-night
In booking, Shooken so tight
Tingling mingling with the coked type that's so white
Or the wild on canal, soul closed tight
Old-type
Uncle Stu, told me bout his whole life
How he used to hold knifes
Now I hold mics

[Hook: Hak]
Hard pill to swallow
Heard there's light at the end of the tunnel
Wasteman found it
Left it rot
He was chasing his troubles

[Bridge: Wiki]
Tim hit the puddle
Splash raps up in the huddle
And these fuckers wonder how we keep it one-double? (x3)