[Intro: Q Karintino]
Icon O… Rippa… (Rippa)…
I said that twice…
Karintino…

[Verse 1: Q Karintino]
I’m head bangin’ like a mosh pit
Fly like a saucer
I hope you catch game; Randy Moss
Don’t get pumped up like a Mossberg
You know I’m a shooter like Klay Thompson
You just like Dice, just comedy
Get shook like dice, this ain’t hide-and-seek
Don’t become piranha meat
These n***as think in too deep is 5 feet
Gotta go to war to find peace, but that’s fine with me
Criminal ties, I mob
The beef is obsolete to a Godfather with a slaughterhouse
Round up the cattle, chop ‘em down
Makes steaks out of you damn clowns
Solid as the concrete, I paved the way to get you out
Take a stand, or sit down
I’m all in ‘til I’m in ground
Blood in, blood out
They tried to keep me in the mud, but I dug out
I dug out

[Verse 2: Moufpece Da Rippa]
Uhh, Brisk wind and a mild storm
Tryna reach a milestone and not get styled on
Don’t give a fuck ‘bout what n***as tell me roll with my instincts
I gotta do this shit for familia, fuck what friends think
I know they watching, ain’t gotta make a corner profit
Still face a whole 8th to myself, corner pocket
Get pedigreed if you ain’t a dog of this pedigree
Deeply rooted, grew to be tree, Johnny Appleseed
Rippa Razor Ramon, face like stone
Because every n***a gotta have chains, riding on chrome right?
Wrong. Felt this way since I’ve been grown
Ain’t never gotta mistake shit, I live through song, bitch
Never switching, never slacking or simpin’
Even when I had no dollars I was mackin’ your women
Be back in few minutes, you talkin’ to a captain, lieutenant
Don’t talk sideways unless you meant it, motherfucker

[Verse 3: Icon Okee]
After 2 a.m. just go to sleep
‘cause after 2 a.m. ya always make the wrong decisions
Sunday mornin’ come ‘round, now we all some Christians
Saturday night I fucked the world up with all my n***as
Now it’s Passion of The Christ!
A pack of wolves, Mel Gibson, he would call us niggers
In the valley of the shadow of death
I spazz out ‘til I’m askin’ “who’s next?”
Like “Is that all that you have?” And “What’s left?”
Attackers gaspin’ for breath, I arrived, showed my ass and then left
I’m a pariah, flyer than the height of Goliath
Not the slightest big frightful of these flies who just spy on us
Screams and cries from innocent lives
And liars just slide it up underneath their designer rugs
The wealthy ain’t got time for us
Unless it’s time to line us up for execution
You ain’t gotta like us but respect the movement
The anti-Galileo down the way from the Paseo
Ayo, I’m like “on God” (on guard); OJ Mayo
More technical than fencing
I never schooled at Princeton
I’m a legend fool, eligible for who’s the illest