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Yeah the almighty yeah
Turn that shit up
come on turn it up
DJs burn that shit up
the long one to flesh
MED moves turn to dollars
back at it
Check it out bring it
I snatch the game by the throat
where the money grip
Spirit of a pimp slap the trick
where the cash at
fuck it and don’t kiss
I talk without assist
with a gift to lift the audience
Spit till the quadrant is empty
out to prove dominant
All of it is supposed to
go down in sound
You’re rocking with best
in town from the ground
Enough you rush
from out of bounds
Cali rock veteran
Living legend future past
and present in the essence
we smoke till the resin
The lesson for the day I
Medaphoar came number one
When you was doing your thing
my job was already done
When it comes to the drums
I instrument words and
finish getting funds
when I get served after killing you
Loose lip talking too much off
that ass you’re talking through
Residue pays due long overdue
here’s what you should’ve knew
Homie we another from you
smother confidence now
when you loose
Tell ’em what you’re in it for
Beats and the rhymes
the streets and the grim
I hustle for mine
Nigga what you in it for
The love of the grands
groupies and fans
all my homies to pass
Speak on what you’re in it for
These haters should die as bad
as I can finish through cowards
We get live y’all turn it up
Get high burn it up
Act live serve ‘em up
All hands get ‘em up
You get in with the wrong nigga
Blunt split hard it
cognac sipper strip tipper
Hot rocks spitta
invincibility figure short temper
Block menaces
since they hit up we trip ‘em
Cash and the liquor up
slumped up in the back of the pickup
It’s us vernacular half tarantulas
snatching attention from your women
Why you mad at us
don’t trip we pack heart
While you keep talking your mouth off
spark a blunt
assault of a thought
You should’ve started
where you walking
it’s dark
Verbal murder
words written in white chalk
Only time I fuck with
marks is overseas
have you thought
I got your knees shattered
like sledgehammers
then sent you for a walk
Don’t matter when grammar
while I square like a clean of batter
Flow pattern keep talented
styles balanced
when you speak
It’s fake
I know you from being
sweet as a peach
It’s all grown natural
tighter than slave shackles
who taste gravel
Better make some
or we'll get that ass handled
Tell ’em what you’re in it for
Beats and the rhymes
the streets and the grim
I hustle for mine
Nigga what you in it for
The love of the grands
groupies and fans
all my homies to pass
Speak on what you’re in it for
These haters should die as bad
as I can finish through cowards
We get live y’all turn it up
Get high burn it up
Act live serve ‘em up
All hands get ‘em up