[Jay Rock]
Look, yeah
Fuck the critics
They don't know I spit it for the dub on my fitted
I wear it like a pendant
Rock's city don-dada
Who hotta?
Nada
L.A. crews, Mufasa
Shoutout to old crews, represent the same casa
West coast product 2009
They still trippin' off the cest smoke
Show me a dime
Kill a pussy with my death stroke, every time
You best know, my style canal
I got the best flow
I stay with the pound, so I'm good from the ground up
Let me take ya soul, I ain't fuckin' around
Nah, blood, cuz, or whatever
That get the shut up
Like Cheeto puffs
Keep bad boy o's that we gon' puff
Jay Rock what?
Top Dawg run the game let 'em know

[Kendrick]
Back by popular demands
Give it to you fresh out the kitchen
Pots, pans, hope my parents riches
Spit it like I had denchers
Suicidal thoughts, got me feelin' like Sean Kingston
Hip-hop with precision
We talkin' global
Perform global warming, ha
All them drops, I dropped a hundred down today
Yo' mouth drop, top missin' like a dropped toupee
I'm goin' through tracks like Jerome Bett-is
So fast you get whiplash or head-ache
Bars like Alcatraz, never been felon
But I spit it well to all the men in county jails
Dwell, on the fact that yo' plummet record sales
Make you clumsy with the gat

[Ab-Soul]
Yo, I'm so far ahead of my time
Finna lap my damn self
I'm still in the hood, like a fan belt
The fan mail comin' in bulk, hop on a bull
Every time you wanna see it reminds me of the flow
See notes like a treble clef
Step to the best and see why these n***as fall short
Like I tripped the dwarf from torn from a different cloth
Warned by a different boss
The art soon will make y'all crumble
I'm humble, but still anybody could get it
Fuck y'all, this verse is sexually transmitted
Never timid, I'm winnin' like I got dibs on it
State of mind so large, we could all live on it
Start a new community...
I remain the winner, on my grizzy
Might even hibernate this winter

[Jay Rock]
And I'm still on some boss shit
Like, I don't care how much it cost shit
Yeah, n***a, I'm a mack
So much pussy on the line, I don't know what the... snatch
Yeah, Ab-Soul light a match
Got the killa outside
Let's smoke ugh, K Dot, Compton city lyricist
Don't wack n***as, yeah I know they fearin' this