OK, check 1, 313

Once again, Guilty and Four Tet
We’re what you call vets
Jet with the speed of Corvettes
Make four sing like quartets
My enemies want to raid my fortress (nah)
But I’m swift on my feet like Dorsett
I’m from the pit, soon to be a star when I hit
Yeah, you running back trying to figure me out
I’m at the bar till the liquor run out
I’m driven off hate
Only satisfied when I’m getting y’all cake (money)
If she on the rag then I’m hitting all face
I’m pro fellatio
Bad hoes get dough and take it slow
Detroit-bred, code red
On the block politicking with the old heads
(Old head: What’s up, man? What up, what up?)
(Guilty: What’s up, old head, man? What you got for your mans today? Huh?)
Get that knowledge
And learn what they didn’t teach y’all in college
Don’t test me, boy, the skill is polished (blaw)
And you could be thin, big-boned, or brolic

(Let’s get it on)
Back to win, my side consists of street villains
Sewing up blocks with stock and [reap?] millions
Money motivates my movements
Victorious, my squad ain’t for losing (no)
We come through, chicks go wild and scream
My Ziplock holds big piles of green (smoke)
No sticks, no seeds, big league trees
Kush, burn that bush
Stagnant cats can’t move without push
Pussy, clean y’all out without douche
Four Tet reps the real
And since the deal I copped that extra steel
Don’t cross me, that could be costly
Duck, I’m convinced that y’all suck
Stones Throw is the team
Light another blunt up and get your cream

(Let’s get it on, we better than the norm)