[Prelude: Jarren Benton]
The fuck these n***as talking about, man?
I ain't paying attention to none of the shit these n***as be talking about, man!
Where the fuck my squad at? fuck it!

[Verse 1: Jarren Benton]
Fuck all that shit that you talk, I'm as sick as my thoughts
I'm from Atlanta, I never was a fan of the hawks
You can find me spitting game at your bitch
Better aim and then spit
I paint the sky with the brains of a snitch
Put your remains in the ditch
I'm getting brains in the six
Reclining the seat and she gon' lick the veins in my dick
The same faggots that dap you up, be the ones that clap you up
Thank god we made it through days darker then Daffy Duck
Funny how n***as rally when cops kill em', but when black on black violence is through the ceiling n***as is chilling
I'm passing on that groupie pussy, let my brodies have it
I'm out in Manhattan tryna' fuck with Zoey Kravitz
Fuck love I ain't searching for no Cinderella
I'm blowing dope that'll blow my brains in the interstellar
Rappers dressin like they into fellas'
Little ways to the top so I'm rapping like I'm still in the cellar
Lord Benton I always been into whoreish women
Spilling pinot grigio on my linen in Venice
C.I.A. invented crack with a sinister chemist
Long talks with God 'til my spirit's replenished
Yeah, I do this for your grandson whose life was taken by a quicker kid behind a hand gun
Y'all ain't fucking with Mr. Benton, that's ludacrous
Slice open my wrist and pull out the devil's computer chip
Bitch, y'all bitch ass n***as sleeping on the goddamn god like Sealy's posturepedic mattress, n***a
[Interlude: Jarren Benton]
Look here man fuck this shit im done rapping, man, aye Pounds get at these n***as let's wake em' up!

[Verse 2: Pounds]
Hard to stay clean with both hands in the business
Bitches think you balling with four grand in the district
Toe tag in an instant, so animalistic, throw hands in them fishes
You throw bands at them bitches
I'm lucky left in the brougham with the dishes whores chug slugs like coke cans and a biscuit
I'm smoking lethal knocking the best of seagull
Fuck the block push profit of packerino
Uhh, I put beam to heads aim, screaming lets bang
Through your green and red frames, yeah 125 like a portion of fifth
I'm just gon' throw my fork in the ditch, shit corpse in the lift
Uhh! Now pussy, why you lying on your songs
Bet you stop her when I bop her, put that iron on your lung
Hammer the way, then it has a graphic display, fashion a cake
See you boys is cashing the way, on loud but open bad cats in the shay
Hygiene controls, madame strap pat in the b'
I'm still alive, further than they ever thought
Consensual fire and watch you beg for water

[Interlude: Jarren Benton]
Y'all n***as way too fucking sensitive, y'all some bitch ass n***as, we bringing that hardcore shit back, it's that aluminum bat to your fucking skull, shit. Ey Chris get these fuck n***as!

[Verse 3: Chris Rivers]
Chris the shit, Young Feces that's my alias
Lord of rap, the jaws'll crack I ram a nazi atheist
Make believe is with my radiance, my radius is here to aliens
Fuck a top 10 I'm top 9 like Ms. Radius
Fuck a bitch and save the world, the rest is miscellaneous
Pull out on a stack, don't even know what a baby is
Was born a grown man, force my thoughts to homelands
Had to hold it with both hands, cuz' I never had a baby dick
What's crazy is, they trapped us in the system, every premonition, vision beat the pick, the nicest victims
Pray for knowledge, pay for college , pay for coffee is for our children that hold their father's leave like hood bitches dating pilgrims
N***a listen, I'm the truth never had to miss a tooth, the gap is disembolic, from the diss is struck from me to you
Rappers scared to say my name like beetlejuice, shocking like they seeing Zeus
I know they pray that change is coming but it took the scenic route, it's got it's rivers