[Verse 1: Wildcard]
Tell me irrelevant but I'm still in development
Swear to intelligent elements like it’s telekinesis
In development, hell embellish it; If music was a woman more fellas in it than LA county jail on the weekend
And I’m - bringin’ hell from the cellers and all irrelevant dwellers
The psychedelics I’m sellin’ the way, enveloping
They tellin’ me to mellow with this melancholy
Stop sellin’ thoughts from my melon when Helen Keller can see shit
I’mma rap venomous, no one can tap into this
Flow is just magnificent, no one can rap intricate
Soak ‘em in gas and I be throwin’ the match into ‘em
Going to track women or throwin’ they back into where (❓❓)
Rap venomous, Cobras attack enemies, blowin’ you back
When I’m in mode of attack, that I be coldest in fact
Thinkin’ that my soul is just half (❓❓)
And it’s as if gangster rap and Dead Poets a bad influence
What the fuck’s up, enough is enough
For these punk motherfuckers that suck
All the kids in this game got no one to look up
So when life’s a cold bitch like a hooker in Russia
They needin' a leader, they needin’ some meanin’
Don’t know if it’s me, but this fire I’m breathin’
I should be mainstream but for ten fuckin’ years I been trapped underground like them women in Cleveland
And all that I want is that one shot, Jack
What happens when they tell you that your one shot passed
Fuck that, I got a gun to get my one shot back
And an itchy trigger finger like my gun’s got crabs
Ain’t nobody gonna tell me how to run my raps
And your woman won’t admit that she loves my craft
Stephen King sit when your wife goes down (❓❓)
I make her eat my kids like Pennywise the clown
Come on
[Chorus: Dice] x2
I lose my mind cause
Don’t understand why (All I do is start rappin')
On the radio waves (?)

[Verse 2: KXNG Crooked]
Uh, let me get in there, it ain’t too much around I ain’t seen
People sellin’ they soul to gain green
Til you gotta cut ‘em off like something that’s gangreen
All for the love of the mainstream
But the mainstream don’t want you livin’ the same dream
Cause y’all not on the same team
For the fame I’ve seen rappers do strange things
Now they wanna get away clean
I been in the game since the n***a was eighteen
Spittin’ gasoline, spittin’ that acid mean (❓❓)
While they mother toughest gettin’ humped with no Vaseline, tryin’ to get their career jumpin’ like a trampoline
I just – work hard like I’m half machine
Double it up, serve the crack to fiends
Fuckin’ it up, always hustlin’ hard, Promethazine
Floor it, take the rap game like I’m trappin’ lean
And I’m – still that Underground King
Like I’m sittin’ on the throne next to Bun B
Once we, kick in the door, wavin’ the four-four
I want every lyricist in the country to come (E) (❓❓)
Try to stop us, we dump heat
On anyone, I give you twenty-one from the Jump Street
I got the cannon in the front seat
And for the bread, I turn any n***a into lunch meat
And yeah – When I come creep
I’mma give ‘em the blues, I’m hittin’ fools with the hidden rules
Of the beginning of my swimmin’ pool
That mean I'm only one deep
Cause murder beef never come cheap
Rappers thinkin’ that they fortunate
Suckin’ they own dick, contortionists
I can tell you was a cocksucker before you spit
Your momma should have put you on that abortion list, bitch
[Chorus: Dice] x2
I lose my mind cause
Don’t understand why (All I do is start rappin')
On the radio waves (?)

[Verse 3: Wildcard]
I freak women who freak with the Free Clinic (❓❓)
And I’m deep in it, repeat (pidders) but keef’s in it so (❓❓)
I seek vengeance on degenerate leech enemies
Who reach under my seat that I be diminishing
All these frauds and it's all devices (❓❓)
Out of alternate wall where the walls is mics (❓❓)
Assault the mob with the saw is what I call a knife (❓❓)
And women that don’t want to fuck is what I call a dyke
I’m kidding, but all this music I always write
Is like the voodoo that brought the Chucky doll to life
It’s not my fault that I absorbed to many chemicals as a kid
‘cause my father was Walter White
A Heisenberg, the wisest words that I can serve
Is fight the urge to write a verse against me
Cause I’m quite disturbed, you might concur
I’m nice at first but I’mma make you bite the curb
And stomp your shit (brap) drop soccer kicks
I’m not gonna stop choppin’ they cops and wigs (❓❓)
I’m not gonna stop rockin’ these foxy chicks
And let they twat box rock like the (hot though) bitch
(A moxy hits) was raised in a toxic pit
Got lost through pop’s garage full of phosphorus
And now I cock-block Brad Pitt, chop his wig
And charmin’ Angelina, and we’ll go without the kid
Her twat is licked like strawberries chocolate dipped
I bust in her raw, now she needs a walkin’ stick
A lock is picked and dropped like an octave
I call women dolls, but the law calls ‘em hostages
I’m off the grid, you’re not the shit
I’m not convinced at all these kids that I’m an optimist
I’m not exempt for being pissed off
You always wanna be positive, suck Magic Johnson’s dick
'Card