[Verse 1: RSA ELIJAH]
Ignorant bastard sell out a show in Amsterdam
You think his fucking ass but that faggot rap faster than you
All these bitches don't fuck with you till you show the hunnid bands
Yo bitch, she like my swag you getting mad and tryna throw them hands
I don't really give a fuck about a bitch n***a
Talkin' down on my name, I can be your grave digger
You think you fucking fresh but let's be real, my shit sicker
And bitch I'm winning in life, you know I'm gonna be bigger

[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
Juicebox, tank top, tube socks
Dude stop, forehead shiny like a new Glock
Two shots fired at the Excursion we were swervin' in
All-purpose verses with a passion for servin' kids
Empty out your pursеs on an immature crime spree
Eyin' up the nursеs with some gloves that read "I squeeze"
Who the fuck said to speak, Mr. Me-Is-Siamese?
Even Christ said "Christ, he flows quite nicely"
Hypebeast's highly likely to bite me
And try to high five me, but I just give them high threes
'Cause y'all don't get two, touch me, I'm the shit
Sue me, if you got an issue, grab a tissue
Mediocrity is odd to me
Ass as far as ya eyes can see. Who the best? They holla me
Nombre, Ho-lay shit, I don't spit crack, I spit cocaine crisp
I ain't fuckin' with it if it's no payment
'Cause everyone knows paid dues don't pay rent
I'm dope like the coke that I'm laced with
Dreams what I'm chasin', flow hot it's chafin'
This is why I'm hot? No, that is why I'm blazin'
Dilla jacked Nick, I am shinin' like the diamond that I'm draped in
But I don't wear jewelery, it's HUF over Louis V
Excuse the endurance miss, this critic thing is new to me
[Verse 3: RSA ELIJAH]
Yo I'm back
That n***a Earl went off on the beat and killed the track
If you wanna talk that shit, you'll get sprayed with the mac
No big, only big here is my wallet and this bag
That I be fucking makin' when I'm baking up these rhymes
Bitch I do not got no time
I am tryna get my shine
I'm in my prime right now
This shit's a crime like "How am I fire?"
Motherfuckers calling me the Ghost Rider
Do no got a ghost writer
With music, I'm never tired
Bitch I will be old as fuck and I will still be writing
Motherfuck, I'm not retiring
I'll be 70 with nugget rings
You don't fucking believe me but just watch, I'm gonna be the king
49 Chambers that these faggots tryna keep me in
My rhymes so good, they said my vocabulary is alienated
Bitch I'm rated TRIPLE R (What does that mean)
Rhythmytic, Retarded, and just motherfucking Radical
I kill it going stupid
All my bars is fucking humid
After listening to this you think my lyrics are computed
But I don't give a shit about a little fucking bitch that just keeps nagging on my dick, but don't know that I got the blick on me
HB on my wrist
I look inside my notes
I gotta list of all this shit that I could spit
I never miss