[Intro: Wyclef Jean Sample - "Family Business" by The Fugees]
Now who would think [x5]
That your best friend would be your worst enemy
And your enemy your best friend
Worst enemy and your enemy your best friend
Worst enemy and your enemy your best friend

[Intro: UBI]
What? What?
Try to tell us
Try to show us but you know
Try to tell us
Try to show us but you know the game's UP!

[Verse 1: Sorceress]
Well everybody got something to say
Talking all that trash but just not to my face
Well when we come in contact [?]
And when you tell it try and sell it
That's my number one ace
Man, if I was stupid I would catch me a case
But I’m just edgy
So don’t test me
And just give me my space
Unless you would rather experience losing your taste
And best believe it when I say it won’t be due to old age
(It won’t be due to old age !)
Nah, it won’t be due to old age
Trust me, don’t test me and just give me my space
Cuz I’ve been tonguing this blade
Casually fucking this rage
Steady stuck in this phase
And I ain’t talking ‘bout crescent moons
Since I was put here to blaze the track and chip it in stone
Stick your ass in his face
Strangle with the distort
And like that he sat on the stage posted claustrophobic haze
To reflect in solitude on his fucking mix that he made
With a grave for the feedback
And no pay for the bling cats
Mad of stacks for the weed addicts
Who need it to keep at it
In fact with these habits
Without it he'd be savage
Lock it in my pocket with a bucket of malice
And if its stress that we talking then I chug by the gallons
But if its mess that we talking then it's under the pallet
Well belly up, man
Get a grip
I ain't even on that petty shit
So slit your wrists then pity bitch
Lets both forget that you exist 'cause -
[Chorus]
They try to tell us that we’re floating BELLY UP
They try to show us but you know THE GAME’S UP [x4]

[Verse 2: UBI]
On another energy struggle some friends double as enemies
Dumb as the [?] you’ve got no trouble defending me
Punk of the century fair like loving me tenderly
Crumble and bending me
Scam like double indemnity
Hate when we pave the way and stay away in the shade
Now facing the consequence and you can pay it in pain
The truth of the matter is I
Blew through your pad and
Shit on its stupid inhabitants and
Raid your refrigerator and root through your cabinets and
Praised in the printed papers and boosted the averages (what?!)
Gazed in the face of danger
A [?] Italian with the blade of an ancient saber
I Strain to escape my anger
Awaiting the taste of hater
Facing Ubiquitous is like coming to meet your maker
Balling me up in battles like Nuggets beating the Lakers
Some of us need some players it ought to be up to me
But picking the sickest raps like a lottery number spree
I giggle with ignorance and
Squat with the hugriges
Plotting on shit to jack probably thought about jumping me
Thinking of getting over
But everything that they do been already done to me
Rotten for company
Man, you fucking up the game 'til it's not any fun to me
Rockin' it comfortably while you watchin' from under me
I rap smarter
And with a track sicker than black water
To the bitches that's biting this, take a picture - it last longer
You man a sinking ship in the midst of a silent mist
I throw you under, belly up, in the grips of Leviathan
And there ain't no telling us we're in sync with this timer sin
Living nervous, ducking shots in the glimpse of a sniper's lens like
[Chorus]
They try to tell us that we’re floating BELLY UP
They try to show us but you know THE GAME’S UP [x4]

[Verse 3: Godemis]
It never really seemed worth it to try (nope)
But I figured- may as well before I belly up and die
For thirty thousand shares of this cynical sort of verse
I could write another one for whatever it's worth
Anybody seen a pep-talk walk-around selling wolf tickets
The phoniest will always do that when they tryna kick it
But the track sucks, right
The sound -quality's fucked, bruh
You can only hear the sample, the vocals are muffled up
Wanna do your doubles over
But can't
The song's half assed
60 in the studio smoking a pound of grass
Nevertheless stress don't rest
Is it the chest or a mess
Guided with the itinerary to success
Donemis kiss
Two fists
Get hotter than some Swiss Miss
There ain't another option if you popping off with this shit
From Outkast
To Misfits
To Multi-colour lipsticks
Hanging for the ceiling fan I'm leaving with my wrists slit
Reach inside my pocket pull a muzzle out from this bitch
A bitch ain't necessarily a broad watch the hip switch
Demons y'all tonguing all to eat 'em like a brisket
Figure it out you fucker cuz it ain't worth it to risk it
The iron knuckle rips shit
Now one question - who is this?
Running in the open tryna dodge Donemis' discus
Humble devil is vicious
Bundles of delicacies
Scribbling hell on a wish-list
So kiss this Dear John letter goodbye, baby
Bag a bowl, microphones and all
With Jason chewing on his neck and his jaw
Back-breaking work
Why's he always faking he falls?
And breaks his neck
Tryna get to the other side of the wall (wall)
To one hudred, third and all
Only flying to stall (stall)
Manufacture murder flows and you can get them on call
From a demon ogre leaning over
Seeming sort of sober
Two heads ain't better than one without an extra set of shoulders like -
[Chorus]
They try to tell us that we’re floating BELLY UP
They try to show us but you know THE GAME’S UP [x4]