[Verse 1: P.O.R.N.] Maybe I pray too much and God think I'm Just trying to use his love to get my dreams on Should I go get a job or get my sing on Tired of the back and forth of playing ping-pong Married to the who*e in me, no ring on Sober ain't my tune, that's a Pink song Drowning deep in sin, get your drink on Until you start calling earl with no ringtone Things don't just get worse they get worser When you ain't got no friends you get further When you got too many friends you get murdered Either way you get f**ed and I'm burnin That means you f** me, you going to get f**ed Sort of like when your P.O. hand you a piss cup Lookin' at the lord like yo is it a mix up Why you trying to give it to me like the hiccup I know heaven, hell, and purgatory Don't know why it's so hard to say sorry Or why chicks front so hard when they horny Probably cause' when I cum I'm like call me I'm out your account needs a tune-up That means sell your soul to get a few bucks n***as fightin' for crumbs so put your dukes up You ain't trying to do that, you trying to do us [Verse 2: Black Thought] You already know, it's the star of the show Mr. Dynamite from the 'R' double 'O', 'T', 'S' In a bespoke suit from Savile Row Two birds, one stone, I'mma' k** both If I am not the illest alive, I'm real close What you talking about Willis, Philly n***as still tote Them Jam Boys stay on the job, it's no joke Any other squad tryin' to survive, it's no hope I'm cold Medina, like Rich Flav and Tone Loc I mastered the track just like Tone and Poke I keep them in the choke 'til the microphone broke That's word to Samberg on a motherf**in' boat It's floatin' on the internet, you heard it from hearsay It's your man you love, who be getting no air-play I'm out of south philly where it's piss in the stairway But pushin Panamera Porsches on the fairway I'm certified sick, doc said I'm a head case The Jam Boys clique we invading your air space I flame throw a n***a like a lighter to hairspray It's the world according to Riq' and Amir say My own worst enemy, spit sh** to penetrate Got a feelin' my days numbered like a Kennedy So let me show you how a powerhouse generate Kenetic energy dumb dit ??? [Verse 3: Dice Raw] I need a vacation, yeah... I need a break A break from the bullsh**, a break from the hate A break from the fate, a break from the fake The truth is nobody's going to reach the pearly gates If the honors only going to be held for the saints Been held by the cops and been held in restraints Held back and restrained in the lower ranks Locked out of Wall Street and locked out of banks The loan department, somethin' hear stinks They give a n***a scraps and they wanna' hear thanks I want to hear my nine millimeter go bang Pop-up where you hypocrites go hang Set up shop, and then I start doing my thing We terrorist, don't compare us to a gang I came to make it rain, seltzer water and pain Banana cream pops for y'all clowns what a shame We laugh in your face while you sit and complain You shoot paint balls, I paint walls with your brain Can't you see that we playing two different games Chess and checkers, the rest and the reckless I'm a crack spot, n***a you're an Eckerd's Breakin' new records, you better respect us