[Intro: Rapper Big Pooh & Phonte ]
LB Bizness (Conductor)
Yeah, it's LB
Three in the morning type shit, you know what I'm saying?
Yeah (Ha-ha-ha)

[Verse 1: Rapper Big Pooh]
Glory glory, standing on the shoulders of giants
Robert Horry, a bit of history
Bitter n***as bore me, all praises due
I was rocking to Kane, my brother rocked 'caine too
Now they dopesick, I author like Beth Macy
Penmanship that drive critics and crowds crazy
Limitless, twenty in, there's no safety
And we still letting rounds off
TV in the background with the sound off
Carpet warm, back-and-forth pacing
A better me, I was always chasing
N***as now be content, then they get complacent
Origin storiеs start to change up
N***a, don't ever bring my namе up
Unless you talking 'bout the best still
Break a leg, nah, I train to kill
Rapping over vocals at shows, it shows you still leaning on training wheels
Thirty-five, time to pay the bill
Ayy, dunny, talk to 'em
A&R, I give a spark to 'em
I rearranged the whole clip for a grip, no discounts
Once it hit, quietly dismount
This is full circle, or evolution
However you see it, just know we cutting through all pollution
Pooh and 'Te mix it up, that's an ill solution
Add Conductor, it's a revolution
Now we televised
[Verse 2: Phonte]
Glory glory, my name has been verified
The young boys and the vets, they all testified
The game is primitive, our differences we can set aside
Twenty years of evidence, fake n***as was terrified
My track record is far beyond any rap record
Do the knowledge and some fact checking
Through all the trials and the tribulations
Me and Rapper stood adjacent, playing through them modulations with no half-steppin'
They say they love you, but they pull out at the last second
A damn shame, rap game withdrawal method
Saw my name on the walls of colleges
Where they played LB in pursuit of they scholarships
I am not anonymous, I am the apocalypse
You a koala, I'm a grizzly, bro, we polar opposites, the bare minimum
So you know it ain't no stopping this (No)
Leaving n***as senseless
Back in my youth, I was defenseless
A man-child scared to get in trouble
In the trenches when my belt got tighter, I never buckled
We served up stew and fans opened they mouth wide
But I live in my head and I don't really do outside
So don't make me over
Forty-four years and no greys, I'm amazed
Can't believe I made the quota
Pushing dual baby strollers
Putting words down on the page
With the gaze of a crazed Ray Liotta
Blackness
Baking soda, I got baking soda
Rapper, Tigallo, Dunny, Scudda we takin' over
Just 'cause you don't have a drink, that don't make you sober
And just 'cause you don't write it down, that don't make you Hova
Glory, glory, the end of my story's getting closer
Temperature rising, but the world is steady getting colder
Leave me alone, ring the alarm and tell the vultures
Stay the fuck out the garden if you gon' whore the culture
[Outro]
The number one set, ASL
LB, n***a
LB, n***a