[Verse One: LongShot] Ayo we dick hoes, rip shows every time we spit those Sick flows, n***a catching flu on the mic Then you'll get yo', sh** stole, man I'm 'bout to flip those Thousand CD's just to prove that we tight Not the Clipse old to get yo' a** on the Grind Mine shaking the room and making a move e'rytime New movement in this music of phoney baloney biz But only for the dollar, flip properly, teach the kids That ain't sh** promised but d**h and raw deals All y'all trying to make it 'bout weight for long years I'mma take it to the chest like breaths of the bong k** No cough, off dome, rock long for many years Got grown, got own my square to handle biz Now I hand it out to MC's like "Want it? Here it is." Hot sh**, toxic to the brain like Jane Buddah Insane shooter, mayne do bang in newer The flame through it, it came blazing the game ruin Raising above the stakes in the Chi with better music So put yo' drink down and bang to this While I twist this skunk up and blaze a spliff b**h [Hook] Bang to this, put your weed down and just bang to this All my real G's, y'all bang to this Get up on the flo' and just bang to this Uh huh, bang to this I said, bang to this All my real heads, y'all bang to this I said put your drinks down and bang to this Just get up on the dance flo' and bang to this Uh huh bang to this [Verse Two: Rusty Chains] Ayo every f**ing song's hot Bang to this No one's flows as nice as Longshots, Chains and Kents Fien' to drop a bomb, everyone you know is getting hit Three albums coming out, cross promotion, triple threat Your styles outdated like barter and trades Rhymes are raw heat your best bets to park in the shade I won't stop until I'm getting all of us paid You see us to hip hop is like a barber to fade Cause we stay tight like a gang banger's bu*ter braids Rusty makes rapper's girls come out up they bustias You ain't come to battle rap? Then you better run away We take making music seriously, we ain't come to play Flip patterns like Verbal, feed mouths just like Long f** the fame and fortune we out to write songs The only thing I hold this close to my heart is my mom The most sacred thing in life is this page I write on So don't even think about turning the mic on Your raps are snacks to me like rats to pythons See none of y'all can hang with this We got the battle scars to prove this sh**'s dangerous [Hook] [Verse Three: Verbal Kent] We load verses into the cannon and spit 'em at your grill With the sk** of with a mil you can bring your affiliates We bum rush any stage you touch Cause Verb bust in a second like he ain't f** much You should punch out, take lunch, and get punched out You're in the wrong line of work, we gotta get locked down I've been in the crowd with Rusty while you jack yourself off On the stage, I'm the motherf**er flipping you off Who the f** told you you could rap? Who'd be so cruel? What mean joke to play, you don't spit you drool Let's duel with the tool, lock eyes in school I Prove fools wrong with a black and blue eye I'm attacking your crew like "What's happening dude?" Distracting you from the thrashing that's due Smash with no clue coming straight out the blue I'm starving for rap, I don't even consume food You couldn't even write your own style, you're that weak You hear my sh** and get the punchline later that week Cause none of y'all can hate on this All my criminals and thieves gang bang to this [Hook]