[These lyrics are intentionally locked and left partial due to a DMCA takedown request. Please do not edit the lyrics to include the removed sections.]

[Verse 1: Mach-Hommy]

[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
Yo
Ain't no serial on the ghost gun, smoke some
Dumped, jumped in the Rolls truck; it was a close one
On the hunt for this bread, it's no wonder I brung a toaster
Pop up, don't let your breakfast roll go cold, son
Slump boy like Boy George, but not the one from the Culture Club
Pure with no cut: yay so raw, you could throw it on a open cut
It'll go numb; move dumb slow, I don't drink soda with no mud
It's a dirty game, but we don't smoke dust, I
Kicked up enough, too much to cover it up
Like a ugly bitch with her all face done up
What up? You'll never have one up on ya big brudda

[Verse 3: Mach-Hommy]

[Verse 4: Roc Marciano & Sample]
Yo
12-gauge shotty made you go potty
Keep the thang by mе, you never know who may know karate
Full monty, your body frayеd like pastrami
You can't (—part within my soul), it ain't sacred geometry
Arithmetic by the Chinese
When I speak, vagina leak, slide you like some KY grease
Y3s on the guy with the flyest feet
I will fly your meat for reasons X, Y and Z
[Outro: Mach-Hommy, Roc Marciano & Sample]
Fine by me
Marci

I'm a living sickness
Sick with just myself