[Intro: KXNG Crooked]
Classic shit
This that real Long Beach east side shit, that real Brooklyn shit
We on our fourth Infinity Stone, hold up

[Verse 1: KXNG Crooked]
Gun pop out quick, you friend or foe, n***a?
Snitches in town, you sitting around a mole, n***a
You hitting the ground, hollow tips in the pound
Like a bitch who strip in a gown, they spinning around a pole, n***a
Send shots at the king, I'm on the throne, killa
Give props to queens who get they own skrilla
I salute the day-jobbers wholeheartedly
'Cause hoes be grave robbers, oh, pardon me, gold diggers
Put your hands in the air if you want the encore
Get out your seat, what you acting likе Rosa Parks for?
The Art of War author, n***a, hardcore
Thesе sixteens go to work, n***a, this Job Corps
I stay ahead of my competition by real margins
Get a bag, walk in the booth like I'm still starving
Fifty cent for a ramen noodle's a real bargain
Used to steal at Target while my brother was in a little apartment
It was raining, he cooking ready rock
Hole in the roof, we caught the water in spaghetti pots
Now we let the Chevy hop, they know me on every block
Fuck every opp, I send 'em venom like Eddie Brock
I'm in the room, better address your elephant
I've been spitting silly since them Willie Esco lettermans
You n***as ain't got no backbone Jell-O dwellin' in
Your exoskeleton, softer than yellow gelatin
Say hello to the west coast veteran
In a red Ghost sailin' with a female who got ghetto melanin
And she dressed so elegant, while my dress code's relevant
Full of retro elements, talking Jordans, the M4s
Walk down on you corny-ass flunkies
The industry's full of yes-men and horny-ass junkies
And y'all made 'em famous in this rap shit
That's okay because we back, bitch
[Verse 2: Joell Ortiz]
Friend of foe? Yo, state your biz
Hm, you tendin' dough? Well, there it is
Me? You ain't know who I am by now, then you ain't hip-hop, bitch
Big block, fifth up in the air the day that B.I.G. got hit
It's Brooklyn, spaceship with the sick cockpit
Only got time to make a pit stop, bitch, so give top quick
I'm running late, hour hands glid by six
By the way, your wristwatch ticks, then it's not it
Got on a Rollie Deepsea while I'm deep sea diving
That's oysters near the Oyster in the Fiji Islands
Moisture on my neck, you boys see me shinin'
No Moissanite on deck, that's some VV vibin'
Better tuck that, 'cause he be wildin'
Shit, I'll turn his parents to BeBe and CeCe Winans
Fuck the game plan, I'm from the old Brooklyn
Before all the gang banging, brains hanging at every train station
No safe havens, they found him on the street
And come off the sheepskin, now he count 'em in his sleep
I ain't living in my past, I'm just tryna tell your ass
That my trigger used to blast and you know history repeats, uh
I'm honestly not too fond of the newer eighties
I'd probably just do a bomber with Pradas under the Yankee
Or maybe some crazy Fear of God joggers I'm feeling lazy
My whole closet should be in navy cause I'm wavy
Coming up in them projects, it was hard
Now I fit two project apartments in my garage
And that's without moving my cars
See, the hand I was dealt was harsh, but I hit the river card
If you think I'm still grabbing advances
Chance is slimmer than a short flight to Los Angeles
And we just secured a college tour of them campuses
Broads pullin' on my Js, hawkin' like Kansas is
This a different kind of art, these canvases
Ain't seen tougher paintin' since sprayin' with cans and shit
If you a friend you a friend, you my friend's friend, you good
You a friend of my foe, you both gone, my friend