[Verse 1: Vic Spencer]
I came out of nowhere
They didn’t expect me
My flow is like faux pas
Rocking a pair of SB’s (fresshh)
I’m so gone call me Mr. Jet Ski (Mount!)
While you at home in your room trying to stretch weed
They gave me an invite, and I ain’t wanna go
So I sent a look-a-like, for a no show
Blow smoke. Don’t choke. It didn’t kill my brain cells
Instead of taking pain pills. I think headaches ain’t real
Bed brakes on the real, when the God smashed ya broad. Oh my lawd
Fucking head game needs a damn applause
A studio audience. 16 is a sitcom
Hell a marks loitering, will I drop a big bomb?
Execute the situation
What you think is dope is basic
Oh its fashion that you chasing?
Leave his ankles on the pavement
Then it’s back to the booth
Like nothing happened, bang and snatch
I stay that mother fucker
That these shaky Maude's aiming at

[Verse 2: Chance the Rapper]
Came out the woodwork, like shop class
Popped up like Pop’s ass; years later
Told I had the same fro that Pop’s had
Told I had the same flow that Pac had
My father figure was a n***a in a top hat
Moonwalking for a hundred thousand pockets
I know at home I had some problems back with my dad
I’m sorry my bad, I’m on your iPad
I had a childhood they just scared I'll never grow up
I’m scared to God that all my friends at shows won’t show up
They arms is fold up, like “Tell me what’s the hold up?
When the fuck you gonna show us, how the fuck you supposed to blow up?”
And everything I give them, N***as just want the opposite
Bitch obviously I can spit!
I can pitch up an octave
And spark a hip-hop apocalypse!
Through the wire my college shit!
This my Chaka Khan scholarship!
Teachers better acknowledge it!
[Hook: Chance The Rapper]
I come from out the water
I come to drown your soul
I come to sing my story
These fables must be told

I came from out the water
I come to drown your soul
I came to sing my story
This fable must be told

But you can’t find me
You can’t find me no
You won’t find me
You’ll never find me no