[Verse 1: Big Krit]
A loser I could never be, the bottom I will never see
You walk, I bite, you run, I fight, bitch you know my pedigree
I cruise 'round with my chick, no Tec on this I put on car shows
Well sometimes n***as flex, I keep a stretcher in my car door
I work too hard to get caught up in the he say / she say bullshit
Chill, n***as talk lame tryna slander my name cause I fucked some chick they cool with
She smile in your face, but this shit's so great, meanin' she love my music
Top 5 dead or alive no doubt in her mind, she choose Krit
I parle with my partners reminisce on all the broke days
Was fiending for a bottle, scraping dollars, praying, hope pays
Now it's bourgeois models, baby, swallow up on this rose
The last one you expected to be king, Keyser Söze
K-R-I-T workin' wheel, swangin' til my tires peel
Candy coated raindrops on my whip, and bitch it's so for real
M-I crooked letter, ho, who you know do it better folk
Put it down for the south, the best
The only thing I will settle for

[Verse 2: Gilbere Forte]
I talked about the plan before I lived it yo
Dreaming about this life that everybody thought I'd never know
I told my mama, my daddy, ain't want to lose hope
So I bottled up the spirit and I let go
Me and Raaks spent the summer making dreams off the kitchen floor
Folded up mattress for a seat, tryna mix the flow
16th and Willington, the Temple, that's what we represent
Whoever thought that we would meet the fuckin President?
And this is only half of what God meant
He gave me vision and a voice to tell the world
This living is not an option and dying is only a wish
Baiting out my heart for the world to go fish
Cause we living on the land where the richest man is the shit
Only the wisest ones are struggling to make sense
So I'm breaking every dollar for my soul to change this
The greatest rapper would be living if ya resurrected this
[Hook] x 2
Cause we gon work, work
Cause we gon work, work
Cause we gon work, work
Cause we gon work, work

Cause we gon work, work
Cause we gon work, work
Cause we gon work, work
(Keepin’ that black soul alive)

[Verse 3: Gilbere Forte]
24 years old
Sold everything just for angels to tell me give em more
Feel like I'm from another planet somewhere that NASA know
I rap about everything that you went to class for
College graduation high stakes you keep a n***a low
Too many unfinished miseries for me to support
3 months after 87 Dreams I was out the door
New York, the city where we go big
I left my old contacts and my Blackberry at the crib
Any moment I'mma make it I don't owe a n***a shit
I told Raak we gon do it and touch the fucking world
In any way we never knew it, the only way to prove it
No money off this music til the future bring us to it
So keep your head high, watching God get us through it
Settin' goals to tell a story that God ain't finish paging
Proofreadin' his glory of amazement, amazing!