[Intro]
It's time to bring the classic rap shit back, muh'fucka
Yo

[Verse 1]
Journey through the dark side, get the fuck up!
Made you look, kill your darlings in cold blood
Let the beat play, know who am I, punk?
Gritty voice, friend or foe, say the name, cunt!
This a young Krane, mad and reckless
I beat the shit out your piñata, choke my Nikes with necklace
You missed the hardcore shit? I was yet to come
'Cause I didn't have the license to my fucking guns, uh
Infinite amount of rounds in this mighty pen
Skipped a year, needed time to fucking comprehend
I'm not a scream king, fuck it, I just move in silence
Get my dick sucked and calm myself with the violence
Who the fuck run it? Triple 6 God
I'm so indie I don't need your help with whipsaw
I want to slit your wrists, I want to cut my face
So that I have a chance to duplicate the Scarface
I don't flush my kids in toilet in despair
Beat the shit out your loved ones, let 'em bleed there
Ultraviolent saga, Alex, high-five
Not the triple X bullshit, this is my life
[Hook: Nas (x2)]
They shootin'! Aw, made you look
You a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Gettin' big money, playboy, your time's up
Where them gangsters at? Where them dimes at?

[Verse 2]
Work hard, play hard, this a fucking motto
Hustle hard everyday saying fuck to problems
No rest for the wicked, if my time is money
Then I have to break your back in second to fill up my tummy
I gotta eat, motherfucker, that's why I'm ready for
Whatever it takes to get this cash, even start a war
Fuck the civilian bitches, they ain't shit for me
I'm like new Adolf Mengele, I have to cut that foreign
I'm not a fan of writing and I'm scared of ghosts
Guess how anxious I become when I mix these words?
The walls are closing in, paranoia never sleeps
I bash my head with the radio and become a creep
There goes another pill, fuck responsibility
I don't get respect on streets, that is fucking killing me
Ain't got no hood mentor but all the fucking bets on me
Mastermind at its finest, feel this fucking heat!

[Hook: Nas (x2)]
They shootin'! Aw, made you look
You a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Gettin' big money, playboy, your time's up
Where them gangsters at? Where them dimes at?