[Intro: Rock and Ruck]
Rock: Aight, just put that beat on, son. That shit is banging, son
Ruck: Which one?
Rock: The one Buck gave you, son
Ruck: Aight
Rock: I’ma kick some shit, son. Ayyo, twist some of that (N***as going down the road to the way to get a new blunt)
Ruck: Yo, put the towel, put the towel under the door, son (Got it, man). Come on, man. You just walked in here, man. Put the shit up (Aight, aight, aight, aight, aight, aight, aight)
Rock: Yo, fix the smoke alarm, duke
Ruck: Word up, man. What the fuck, man? Yo, man fuck that (Yo, yo, yo, you remember what happened last time?)
Ruck: That’s what I’m saying, man. On motherfucking New Year’s, at that
Rock: Hahaha, check this out, this fucking ho. Get the fuck out of here, man. Yo, yo
Ruck: Word up. Word up

[Verse 1: Ruck]
Yo, yo, let’s kick
Some T-A-W-L to the Sean
Drop bombs, makes me holier than Qur’ans
Or Bibles. Sean’s your idol. Upon my arrival
On Earth, I was blessed at birth with these fucking recitals
Hah, who wanna, test my skills? N***as
Best to chill, or leave here with my testicles, yo
Shit’s ill, it sounds like that soul—ahhh
Ruck and Rock represent ‘cause we “Let Your Brainz Blo”

[Verse 2: Rock]
Check it out, yo
Who’s that n***a over there? Rockness
Rappers be acting like they’re queer—they need to stop this
Or I attack from the rear, make your locks twist
Like titties when broads take off they brassiere, you’ll drop quick
Swimming up in your subconscious, it’s me, bummy
Jab come to regulate, so call me M.P., make
Poonani puke. Throw up your dukes if you got the
Heart to test the lyrical rocket launcher—fuck your shotgun
I got sons that shine, and they’re mine, call ‘em...
[Outro: Rock]
(*Knocking at the door*) Yo, yo, yo, yo, don’t open that shit, man. Yo, yo, get the fuck... that ain’t the fucking knock, man. Get the fuck... fuck that. Don’t open, don’t open that shit. Fuck, that ain’t the fucking knock, man. Shhh. (*Knocking*) “Yo, let me in, n***as. Y’all n***as...”