[Verse One] I swear to God I'm hungry, plus blood thirsty I paid dues, but if I don't make it who the f** gon' reimburse me? No one, so it's up to me to remain true We came through to spark it with your lame crew in plain view You fantasize that you might be a star Thought you got open but didn't even get slightly ajar I done seen your style before A little talent and soul but when the pressure is on you fold You couldn't take the heat I guess you had enough See problem is, you don't wanna be the best bad enough You ain't hungry like me my heart pumps rocket fuel I stay on my own dick like playing pocket pool Seeing me is like seeing microscopic molecules Think not then son put up your profits and j**els You'll be feeling me no matter what vocal pitch that I'm rhyming in Style switch with perfect timing And I'm outshining men with wordplay I'm always in the lab On the down low, seldom seen like deadbeat dads A legend in the making and you can't be one Cause it takes more than just sk** to be a champion It takes equal parts of talent, luck and ac' Charisma, qualities you certainly lack We two of the industries freshest rebels We don't f** with platinum chains, we deal with other precious metals Example I got a heart of gold An iron will, balls of bra**, nerves of steel Words is real and Gee-Field can tell That you don't stand a snowballs chance in Hell to advance and prevail I'm making my point perfectly clear That when cats is half stepping this year we persevere [Scratch Hook] "Listen, we here to give the hardcore what they looking for" - Xzibit "Dedicated" "To those who know the deal" - Talib Kweli "It ain't a game" "We ain't afraid to bring the war" No other crew gets this nice We pay dues kid we live this life (We living it ch'all) Born to rip mics and spit sh** tight I show you how to rip sh** right [Verse Two] Peace to my man Cap D Bobby and Tone B Rap be More than a hobby it's my only Purpose in life Ain't sh** else worth the strife But mics and perfect beats, not a search for a wife And f** 9 to 5 jobs Punching time cards is last in line of my probs See my squad's trying to defy odds Design more hits than you find from Ty Cobb Dimes and tight broads combine with nice [?] The kind of fly snobs inclined to drive Saabs Trucks with phat rims plus a black Benz My rap friends live plush and stack ends f** the fads and trends We've been down since the Jacksons, Cold Krush and back spins Spin it back And now we must have revenge For past sins for has beens of wack hymns Grab pads and pens Ama** mens like sailboats when I drop paragraphs and Timbs Smack rims off of ducks with gla** chins Scuff my black Timbs I'll bust the Mac-10's Burn weak acts just like packs of Slims For these cats seeking [?] hats and brims Keep cats running laps like tracks in gyms These gats got 'em doing jumping jacks and back bends Leave 'em soaking like a contact lens When combat begins, your life contract ends What happens then? That depends I could start swinging the ax and hacking limbs to fractions And just chill, we mack slims Sorta like bear traps attract skins to my lap like napkins Then acts like captains and rap lords Sip on half Coors Piss on [?] boards Leave my [?] jumping to pa** ports Wood grain dashboards or maybe a fast Porsche But not if trash is [?] And if you that type you on a crash coarse with my task force [Scratch Hook]