[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