[Intro]
Their lies
Upside down, upside down, down
Their lies
Upside down, upside down

[Chorus: Ashley Sorrell]
When you pull up, will you pull it?
Are you the shooter? Trigger puller
Do you back up what you say you do?
Or Mr. Shoulda-Woulda?
Do you give back to the hood you from?
Or run, go to the jeweler?
When you got beef, do you stand or run?
Or talk from your computer?
Do you boss up? Put your people on?
Or hate 'cause you can't do it?
Will you speak the truth to power?
Or be silent, bite the bullet?
Which one are you?
Which one are you?

[Verse 1: Royce da 5'9"]
Why the gay n***as tryna fuck the straight n***as
That's tryna fuck the gay bitches that look just like the straight n***as?
While the straight n***as that the gay bitches tryna look just like
Tryna look, just like the gay n***as, I must look just like the Gravediggaz
You think you the people's champ 'cause people playin' your single
But I don't think that you should keep playin' with me though
'Cause every time I squeeze a damn 3-4, that's the Reaper playin' bingo
That's a kilogram wrapped up on the Peter Pan Prevost
Whoever think I'm here to make some corny ass radio
Viacom jingle got my whole diatribe tangled
Sittin' high up on them tires, on my high horse, I'm Django
Likened by white powder, John Stamos
Probably the only artist, who can father time, John Amos
Rapper God erupted out of a Comic-Con-cano
Committin' lyrical homicide while beside Premo
To the downers, I'm Drano, to the genre, I'm Thanos
Any spitter think he sicker than that, I have the antidote
Take it back to when it was eighths in the pack
Kidnap you over that lil' rap you wrote, leave your family taken aback
By the handsome quote, that I left on that ransom note
I ain't one of these dudes who be computer screen beefin'
Gorilla n***a, killin' his Twitter TL, verbal abusin' females
Bill Maher use the term "n***a" so loosely
'Cause truthfully, he know that he be usin' it on the DL
Louis C.K. know he can use it in front of Pookie
But know damn well that he wouldn't use it in front of DL
White kids graduate to relationships with a ton of perks
Black kids, just aggravated and had to take a ton of Perc's
You come to church the 1st and 21st, and when it come to dirt
Gucci ain't the only one's puttin' black faces on front of shirts
Black women wanna be built like cartoon characters, Eric Cartman
That bears a strikin' resemblance to Sara Baartman
[Interlude: Royce da 5'9"]
Now Google that when you get a chance
You gon' find out America's heartless
Remember, the effort has to go into the art, not the wave
Everybody talking 'bout they own their masters
But if the music don't age well, it don't matter
It's like you own a hundred percent of nothing
Know your value

[Verse 2: BENNY THE BUTCHER]
The Butcher comin', n***a
All them times, you gave 'em your best, got you complicatin' your stress
Cash rules, your last move got 'em contemplatin' your next
I'm the one behind the wheel when them conversations go left
I need violence, Rasheed Wallace, I'm okay with a TEC
What's the difference from a n***a who lived it and storytellers?
Of course we felons, sold a brick whiter than Tori Spelling
Roll with killers, nobody on my block was poorer than us
I put a fork in the pot and got a euphoric feeling, uh
Young heathens clap tools over VVS jewels
White kids pull heaters at school, wanna CBS News
Became a legend for the skeptics who ain't believe he that dude
And for mornings, I never ate unless they feed me at school, uh-huh
Servin' out pots, had me turnin' out blocks
It's Griselda, n***a, you know we The Firm without Fox'
Everything about timing and I was stern on my clock
'Cause n***as out now grindin', tryna earn what I got, uh
Stick to the script, my advantage was hustle
So I'm sayin' off the muscle, I'm here, and careers I could cancel a couple
The shooter cross the Atlantic to touch you
Rubber bands in the duffle with both hands full, I ain't panic, I juggle
I'm very confident, y'all barely poppin' it, huh
Y'all n***as treat every project chick like Kerry Washington
Jail, backstabbin' to Hell, I took a consequence
A yard big enough at the crib to bury hostages