[Intro – AWAR]
Aye, wake yo punk ass up, you bitch! The best free agents in the muthafuckin' game right now. It's war!

[Verse 1 – AWAR]
Overlooked and underrated—that's a fucking understatement
I hold my foot in they necks ‘til they suffer from suffocation
Windpipes crush under the weight, punks stay running in place
I’m thin ice, saying, “Dump slugs,” but you shooters is pump faking
Been nice. See my lunch break—I’m black gloves and duct tape
Living that city life, but tell 'em who still runs the upstate
You fuck face cupcakes sold your souls for some chump change
I touch dirty money ‘til I get paper cuts and blood stains
I ain't the one to play with, up late on the grave shift
Ducking' these government agents, plus the judge's arraignment
Stuffing hundreds in a duffle, I can't afford to be complacent
Dollar signs, point blank period is my punctuation
Drugs’ll numb the pain, these hunger games for chunky chains
You should of been a nut stain. I pump blunts until my lungs ache
Jooks your bags from luggage claim and jump on another plane
I'm way ahead of my time—you still stuck on the runway
Wake up!

[Verse 2 – Freddie Gibbs]
Woke up this morning with murder all on my mental
Half on the one 87 to 11 but he ain't no [?]
That robbery, homicide—n***a learned that from all the n***as on cancel
What you know about sticking another goddamn club, 20 guns in the muthafuckin' venue?
You can't get sent through, get sent out. Gleam blocks with that Glock out
Full clip for your clique. Fuck your camp, bitch, I'm camped out
I’m pulling up, straight bullet popping, let the bullet stopped, I must of ran out
Turned a Captain Kirk into a handyman and fuck an ambulance—they brought a van out
Straight coroner. Thugging and you know it, bruh
Police ask for a green car, n***a, ‘cause my whip and my bitch straight foreigner
Chasing my potential, well, I guess I see the ho in her
Said she was mixed with black so I asked that back if she want some more in her
Roll up what you smoking, bruh. East Side GI deep in the game
Not a day go by that I don't get high, two zips of weed on the plane
N***a, blimp my essay up in [Memphis?], price getting cheap on the thang
Gotta keep that yap boy strapped like a trap boy—n***a might leave us some change
It’s Gangsta Gibbs, bitch
[Verse 3 – AWAR]
You overdosed on lean potion, I keep a sharp mentality
Slow motion, you sleep comatose in this harsh reality
So my arteries clog and my fucking heart’ll stop
I’ll be bringing a large knot and ringing they alarm clock
Filling piff jars to the top. Hitchcock with a wristwatch
My game’s napalm. I’m on ‘cause the kid spit it hot
A ticking time bomb. Better stay calm or you’ll get got
Who deliver it more air-tight? This shit is ziplocked
You should kick rocks. Real G’s don’t mingle with cops
I can’t tell if they entertainers or doing stings with the SWAT
Asking for cash and evidence. I might have to mush rappers
Push packs in your residence and force you to cook faster
My team murder your weak raps with burners and ski masks
You preferring the knee pads ‘cause your turn-up is decaf
Meet the reaper’s cousin. The deadly weapon in heaven’s reach
Snooze on me, rest assured, you gonna rest in peace
War…