[Verse 1: The Champs]
Let's start it off like uno, dos, I leave no trace
On some Chris Walken in the studio, explore the space
Like the keys is my pillow, my blanket's the bass
Horn's the comforter, drums and percussion the frame
Guitar's the sheets where I lay, my words match
That's how I interior decorate, got IKEA in my crate
Made my bed, I sleep in it, but the rest of the house
Is unfinished, paint peeling is my blemish, I'm living I'm certain
When I'm working wish life had a cliffnotes version
Got jobs one through twenty, guess what, they all urgent
My own everyday for a few years determined
My band play an empty show, and ain't nothing working
Had to freestyle outside the club just to get a crowd
Lost my voice mid-set, still got homework at the house
Recording session later that night, in class I pass out
And quitting ran through my head, but then hip-hop said
"Don't go, don't go"

[Bridge]
Y'all ready for it?
Yeah
I bet you'll have fun
I got down into it
There is it, there it is
Damn right
[Verse 2: The Champs]
This game enforce all, sometimes you can hit the clutch and still stall
Some would crawl hands-and-knees, to travel to Belize, puff exotic trees
Take a million pictures, cheese
Sign autographs after rap, then after that a million daps
Money stacks, honeys wanting sex, kids coming back
Somehow it cracks
I guess they call that point in time a crossroads
I follow the same path my heart goes
Leading the leaders to lead elitists, over the ledge
Since a fetus, I've been sick with ideas in my head
Definition of The Walking Dead
Messing with those Quakers, getting my bread
I chose bitten instead, I rose, living ahead
But I'm still running outta time, funny ain't it?
Then my [?] life I painted, ugly [?] of distorted portions
But she beautiful to me
Imperfection's perfect, something I can work with
Champ's on that grind, killing more tread than your city's curb did