[Verse 1: LORD LOONEY]
From a town where them hillbilly's hang around
Plow 'em down, me and Millz quick to stick 'em in the ground
Bowing down, "BLAOW!" like we blowing out the speaker now
See 'em peakin' at our weakest, cower chugging Daniels down
Porkin' on the ham, rocking spandex, walking 'round
Talking on the celly, ass thick as Rick's belly round
Six spliffs got him gripping for the chicken now
Downtown, ice smitten...you oughta grab the mittens now
Posse nothing nice, white as numberless dice
Enticing me, nice...long as ya'll don't try it twice
I'm wishing for a better life
Fuck it, but for now, simply reaching for a riper pipe
From a land where the man runs every part of you
Sorry dude, honestly, I wish I was my own self too
But it's hard to be you-
Loopy, scooping up abused shoes
Drooping through the sewers to-
Acquire some higher type of truth-
As you expire, done trying so you grab a doob-
And start lighting, flying through a mental chute-
It's true! No accusing, I know this simply cause I do it too
Pussy out, now you're done
Stick it to the couch
Here's mountains of towels from the tears you let out
Douse the team's noise
Shouts to Keith Cowboy!
Out with the peace-
Loiter out 'round, we need amounts
Hydrostatic, he the ragged/ratty bastard
Pity fuckin' bastions
Idiosyncratic with the tactics
We back like the massive cash stacks for gas, yeah we static
Static...
[Bridge: Millz]
I don't really know what all these people want
Wish I could conform to the norm, but I don't
I'm putting all my heart and my soul in a song
Smoking on that Bob Marley, listening to Tuff Gong
I do it 'til I'm gone
Do it 'til I'm all alone
Take a break from social media, I'm putting down my phone
I don't wanna be bothered
I just want my space
Middle finger your religion; give a fuck about your race
We headed to the same place; came from the same place
Running at a different pace, all in a rat race
For the cheese, yeah we all in a rat race
For the cheese, yeah we all in a rat race

[Verse 2: Millz]
Uh. Growing up I did a lotta throwin' up
40 ounces in my gut, marijuana in my blunt
Never hang with everybody; everybody and your friend
Close knit with my n***as and you fuckin' up the zen
Only comfortable when I'm with family
It's like the Huxtables
And don't believe what people say
You can't be fuckin' gullible
Truth will set you free
Inspiration is the key
Give a damn what you believe
You know I believe in me, uh
I progress, money bringing less stress
Swear to God I'm blessed, yellow brick road to success-
What I'm on-
Chasing dreams 'til I'm dead I'm gone
Go and get it on your own
Cause they never giving loans
Whatcha gonna do when you get to Heaven's gate?
The poor want the bread, anything for the taste
Blunt sticking like paste, I be preaching like Mase
Want my name big, hitting uppercase, no brakes-

[Verse 3: LORD LOONEY]
There used to be a time when I could wake up and stare-
In the mirror, comb my hair, and be glad I was there
But now the latter's bare, and I'm lacking in prayer
Pastor calling back, sad, but I said that I'm not there
And clarity of what this all means is leaking
And we ain't got buckets, so fuck it, seems we can't keep it
Can you keep a secret?
I'm only acting mean just to keep this appearance...(shh)
Fearing for my parents when the paper is thinning
And the rich kids sippin' Henny, every day and they grinning
Whisper 'bout the fuckin' dress and the checks that we missing
Getting sick of sittin', witnessing these hypocrites; wishin'-
For a stable state of thought
A table-plate of stocks
While they're craving more paper
I'm wasted, playing with the Glock
Aiming at the locks on my noggin, hope I knock 'em off
Pop a proper copper round, moppin' up my body now
Sleeping sound in the ground, leapin' up and down
Sounds like a downer type of thinking, don't it now?
Speaking for the kids living sad, silent, sour town
Powerless and wishing that they could just cower down
Look at me-
18; "Mr. Just a Week or Three Ago, Couldn't Buy a Swisher"
Now I'm getting cold
So I need about 26 to feel better, so-
Facing all my past mistakes, remember those-
Memories I can't remake, my childhood is vacant
In case you haven't noticed...I'm suicidal, pacing-
In this vacant space, praising-
Any saving-type-of-grace that could save a major breakage
So if you're ever steppin' through the street-
Living complete...
And you see that kid sitting with his eyes on his feet
Mis-tooken for a pile of shit, why dontcha grab the-
Kid, and look him in the eyes and tell him-
He matters...
(you matter man...)