[Verse 1 – AWAR]
I'm the game’s salvation. Salutations
Solidify my spot to make the foundation
You ain't got lock jaw—that's fabricated
It's really rock salt—scale ain't calibrated
Tight verse of light work, 21 grams
Heavy buzz, fam. I need to re-up on rubberbands
Son of Sam, I'm sinnin’, touchin’ grams
You live on your knees—I stand up like a man
You about publicity. I’ll be pleased to bury ya
And we ain't scared of your weak-ass character
Yellow tape the scene, clear the area
These off-brand rappers and their reefer carriers
Keep the [Philly filled?] when I kill these bills
You’re pussy-footin’ around—no Achilles heel
I'm gone with the wind but the frauds are out
I'm on Vonnegut shit—AWAR “Slaughter House”

[Hook x2 – AWAR]
Don't do me a solid, I spit on a hand out
Distribute the product, you heard I'm the man now
The gift was given, we in demand now
I never fit in, always been a standout

[Verse 2 – Joe Budden]
Let me introduce us: we are hell
Your live set’ll get TRL
I'll pull out that all-terrain flow (meanin’)
Meanin’ any n***a y'all decide to put over I
I ride over or override
I'm in overdrive—this shit is crucial
Your best bet's to stay neutral
Or no ski mask, no disguise
‘Cause when I get conceited, I’ll put the nose in the sky
I mean your ball's about a phantom
They not real—they phantom
It's just bullshits, an anthem
I take the actin’ tough (as what?) as rappin’ stuff
‘Cause now ya stutterin’, talkin’ ‘bout what happened was
You’re colorblind—outfit ain't matchin’ up (go)
Gotta call Jeff Hamilton, patch ‘em up
Joe's at it, servin’ the dope
Addicts closed casket for the beat, toe-tag it
[Hook x2 – AWAR]
Don't do me a solid, I spit on a hand out
Distribute the product, you heard I'm the man now
The gift was given, we in demand now
I never fit in, always been a standout

[Verse 3 – AWAR]
I don't relate to ‘em, don’t identify
The whips is rented, only time to enterprise
Aside from your kid’s skin, hair, and teeth
You and I don't share any similarities
I'm self-invested—you quick to forfeit bucks
To rich corporate thugs extorting us
I'm self-made, self-centered, self-guided, self-driven—I call myself the pilot
New altitudes, presidential suite is private
You’re a choke artist—you give yourself the Heimlich
You still slinging crack, dog? Look, it's over
I ain't tryin’ to bring it back, I'm tryin’ to push it forward
Anyone opposes, I'll Slash your tires
Let the wheels flyin’ off the Axel—Guns N’ Roses
Catch some type of feeling. Fuck your raps
You keep ice grilling ‘til your mug gets stuck like that

[Hook x2 – AWAR]
Don't do me a solid, I spit on a hand out
Distribute the product, you heard I'm the man now
The gift was given, we in demand now
I never fit in, always been a standout