[Verse 1: Danny Brown]
Kush in the Swisher got a n***a lightheaded
Heart beating fast, somebody call the paramedics
My credit licking guts so everything is copacetic
Your poems is polyester and your stanzas synthetic
So give me my credit, I got my own lettuce
These n***as want handouts, at these record labels beggin'
I walk up in your studio, say "f** the atmosphere
Your beat's wack and your engineer have no ear"
Your f**ing up the church's money, my rhymes like verse Sunday
So get the wine out and let's count this money
n***a
CHECK!
The variation of my patterns is Saturn
Through rhythmic conversation I tell you n***as what matters
The ceremony master, your style is a ba*tard
Turn n***as Casper, put your jersey in the rafters
[Verse 2: Mr. Muthaf**in' eXquire]
f** a job, I can't pa** the drug test
So much stuff in my system, pissin', I could make the cup melt
f** d**h, what comes with success?
A bunch of scumbag motherf**ers and some b**hes with cum breath
Rap pussies: they don't breathe, they queef
That's word, the opus mag
Them fringe benefits will have a n***a on the edge
Paranoid, paranoid, everybody's out to get me
Could work, you pay half and grow old, or I could be Biggie
Biggie, pump your brakes like Mieneke
Holland b**hes s**ing my dick while I sip, Heineken
The Adderall is like a star on Mario: multicolored glow
I could gong the gongshow
Boss like, n***as perpetrate that they ain't this
Just bow down to a n***a and kiss my fist
I gives a f** like a glory hole
Been ill since I wrote my first rhyme in '99 with the N.O.R.E. flow
Same thoughts as back then, I'm just weaker now
The more I think about my past, I push it deeper down
Inhale, exhale, life is like Braille
It ain't about what you can see, it's more about what you can feel
Motherf**er