[Verse 1: Callon B]

Bitch I'm coming from, Mayfield
Every dream I had I made real
I see em' hatin, fuck how they feel
I ain't sweatin shit, I know my day will
Come, I just got to stay ill, uh
I been doing this shit for some time
Moving in quick with punch lines
Thumpin and bumpin the drum line
Stomach is grumblin shit got me wonderin when is lunch time
Spittin them dumb rhymes, special ed A1, bitch its crunch time
Hope you did your home work I ain't quitting no Sir
You droppin out I drop bombs, on yo turf
I rip my heart out on the beat like it won't hurt
Ill grab your neck and fucking squeeze like Gogurt
By any means, walk a mile in my skinny jeans
So I can prove there isn't many me's
Plenty things, stay on my mind
All the time but I don't fret my enemies
They got to envy me, the fucking MVP
Get a case of OE and empty three
Load my shit to your MP3
If you think disbelief, could offend me please
You is mad wrong, I grew up a screw up I never listened at all
I do what I do, what you mad all
The time for? while I'm getting mad props
I had laughs I had sobs
Color me pink bitch I'm that raw
Can't think of the last day I had off
Now I got this rap shit on a pad lock
So the day I quit I'll be bad off
Won't stop till I got a plaque on my dads wall
I'll be the first to admit I'm a tad off
Never ask questions I seek and attack all
Stay the hell out the booth, you are black balled
Ice cold, Ginger with the nice flows
Got your woman showing me where the pipe go
Get up in her stomach like lipo
But I never make sure she have a ride home
I walk a fine line like a tight rope
Resemble Michael, yeah I'm a psycho
Wrote this verse with my mother fuckin eyes closed
I'm as cold as ice but that's a side note

(Callon B talking)