[Intro]
(PBell)
(Euphoric, this you?)

[Verse 1: Jdot Breezy]
E for effort, either go hard or go home
I'm mad as hell right now and I'm off fuckin' X, gone
Get game from elders, you respect 'em, you gon' live long
But everything ain't factual, so, n***a, don't get led wrong
Let's talk about it, I been geekin' so much, I can't sleep
We take catnaps, sleep for the dead, and, bitch, I ain't deceased
Like what's defeat? You got a purpose, either with us or you up for eats
Bitch, it's purposeful and purposely impersonal, you fuck with me
They came for me once, it turnеd out bad, let's bring them guns out
Done been a problеm, up block pressure, make you bring them funds out
I run with killers who don't stop hittin' until it run out
He 'bout his issue, typin' on Twitter, we chalk your son out
I ain't tryna talk with n***as, A-N-T-I
Social what I am, my head low, but keep my eyes wide
Ears always open, slippers count, I won't be that guy
Who fall victim to that pistol, n***a, so I keep mine
Straight out that North, but buried my heart on the Eastside
We deploy the issue, my n***as gon' let that heat fly
Got one chance, pussy n***a, ain't no three times
Think twice before you roll them dice 'cause it's no rewind
[Chorus: Jdot Breezy]
Tell 'em bring it on then, I just mix the pain with meds
Voices in my head, the talk is critical, I'm on edge
Like fuck it, I might tell my n***as get you, better not show your hand
For any n***a try play on my mental, we gon' blow his ass
Stolies got too hot, so we in rentals, never show the tag
Get up close on n***as, talkin' so close like it's shoulder tag
Come through truckin' shit with micro, hit opps with no shoulder pads
Might call my n***a Steeze, we caught your mans and then we stole his ass

[Verse 2: Lil Poppa]
If he catch the biggest half of me, I'ma promote his ass
Them boys done wasted so many racks on me, I already know they mad
Whenever I'm in the city, I'm out East, come and spend your last
I can't seem to get my mind off Leeke, he was livin' fast
Bro just copped the SRT, so please don't make him hit the gas
That's a half Glock, hit every block, bitch come through shootin' fast
Come in first, 'cause if you two, you last
I'ma get you worst like I oughta do you bad
Why he always rap about how he on Percs? 'Cause I can afford the habit
Even though I'm on the third floor, I hear the door tappin'
Paranoia, I can't trust a soul, I think my bros at me
Another opp bitch in my DM, they send their hoes at me
Them old n***as tryna act like they ain't fans, but at my shows rappin'

[Chorus: Jdot Breezy]
Tell 'em bring it on then, I just mix the pain with meds
Voices in my head, the talk is critical, I'm on edge
Like fuck it, I might tell my n***as get you, better not show your hand
For any n***a try play on my mental, we gon' blow his ass
Stolies got too hot, so we in rentals, never show the tag
Get up close on n***as, talkin' so close like it's shoulder tag
Come through truckin' shit with micro, hit opps with no shoulder pads
Might call my n***a Steeze, we caught your mans and then we stole his ass