[Verse 1: Blast Holiday]
Young rappers getting at me, gun-pappers spitting at me
My brother Morph predicted my gift exactly
Rushing all the knocks, turned the block to a track meet
Dusting all the cops like Pine Sol through the backstreets
Since it's a track meet we hurdling like athletes...
Breaking bread with burgarlers and lash chiefs
Eating lunch with murderers and black ?
Short-stop, Golden Gloves, gotta have fast feet
Since groupies move quick, we got a prize for hara**ing
Thinking with your dick and woke up in a trash can
sh** be all Kodak till the camera start flashing
Left him in that pose, grab the fork in the road
Papi hit the docks and his boat got a load
Copping by the stock, we done opened up a store
Frying on my spot, tryna cool it down with snow
Fire to the bread, we making toast
(Hook: Haze Luciano)
Love hurting, I felt it when I lost one
Can't see the bigger picture then draw one
A victim to the system, we all one
So we put in work that pay-off in the long run
[Verse 2: Blast Holiday]
I don't think it's meant to be, see
Cause you love yourself more than the CGs
And honestly, at seventeen
I probly loved myself more than the CGs
So we ain't we, it's you then us
No hard feelings, still Lost N Da Muzik
And when I get these millions, you still getting a huge chunk
But your actions have lately been so confusing
And I die for this team, don't get it confused bruh
Livewire spitters, we all got a short fuse cuz
Ask Lik, ask Atrice, ask Smack
Ask Coon, the blood I bled and time I did for my goons
No Halloween, dressed in costumes
5-Star blazing, they turned to possums...
Faking dead while bullets blaze by they head
They wrong, lil brother you just lost one