[Intro: 360]
Uh
Yeah
Uh
Yeah

[Verse 1: 360]
You feel the bass and the treble, go slow though
Man, I dance with the devil, but no homo
You talk about your fan club, but you don’t know flows
Fan club? I guess your fans at your shows don’t show
Grab a cricket bat and smack guys for six (Yeah)
And PEZ is loyal, he smacks guys for '6
Talk like a bitch, you get smacked like a bitch
And I'm broke as all fuck, but I act like I’m rich, uh
This scene seems to act like they're sick
Yeah, they might have rhymes, but they rap kind of shit
(Never, never) I don't rap, I just disrespect
I've got no respect for anything, I'll diss respect (Fucker)
And they ask, am I really good at drinkin'? Yes
Nine shots'd have you slurrin' words like 50 Cent (Fucker)
And GMC's real, you're actin'
We could give a fuck would accent he raps in

[Chorus: 360]
(That’s real)
Uh, there's no hooks in our notebooks
Yeah (Yeah, you know why?
'Cause hooks are overrated, cunt)
There’s no hooks in our notebooks
(We don’t follow trends anymore, we’re Forthwrizzy) Yeah
There's no hooks in our notebooks
(No hookies… my verse is a hook anyway, you fucking dickhead)
[Verse 2: PEZ]
Yeah, ayo
Check it out, uh
Yo, I can kick one flow and you know it, it's P-Easy
I wanna quit this shit, but I can't, 'cause the scene needs me
This seems easy (Yep), that's 'cause it is, motherfucker
Believe me, you can't see me, nah
So don’t talk any shit, 'cause you’re not better
What’s better than P' and 3' with GMC?
They should call us the flow of the next century
The only person near how we're flowin' is Seth Sentry and
Rob Mantra (What?) You should have those
Names on your list, if you don’t, wrong answer
I wanna get all these wack rappers replaced
These acts slapped in the face till they're smacked back in their place ([?] that, bitch)
I know you all might misconstrue our
Confidence as sort of more like being too proud
Bottom line, Forthwrite is the crew now
I’m saying it, ‘cause Forthwrite spit the truth, blaow

[Chorus: PEZ]
(P-Easy)
There’s no hooks in our notebooks
(P-E-Z… get it?
Keep up, mate) There’s no hooks in our notebooks
(Just have a glance through, mate, they’re not there)
There’s no hooks in our notebooks
(Nah, no hookies, no hookies)
GMC!
[Verse 3: GMC]
When they
When they hear me rap, they like, "He's on something"
They see me dance, they like, "He's on something"
VIP on the weed and I’m blunted
And when it wears off, drop E and I’m munted
And when that wears off, more E and I’m buzzin'
And when I pop more, believe I am krumpin'
They see me peak like a eagle or somethin'
When they built me, they didn't read the instructions (Nope)
Gets fucked up, I’m debris and destruction
I gets fucked up beyond reasonable function
King of this country, you can call me
Arthur, Solomon or Caesar or something
And I got a little groupie in my ear and she buggin'
She got bad breath, she OD'd on the onions
Fuck bitch off, 'cause people are nothin'
I am GMC, I don’t need introductions
Got it locked down with the keys to the dungeon
Kiss the ring, bitch, like I’m Smeagol or something
Three-letter boss, self-esteem in abundance
Forthwrite, big dogs, pee on you munchkins