[talking] Uh what, two triple Getting it how we live, Wreckshop Chevis, independent labels uh (the Hardest Pit is off the chain The Freestyle King is in the god damn game And it's going down, E.S.G. and Po-Yo Tyte Eyez what's up, let's make 'em ride out ha [Big Pokey] On tracks I break backs, so come on with it Here go sixteen bars of poison, getting spitted Go out and go get it, that's the way I was trained I'm here on wax baby, with no pro fame Switch four lanes, in a big old fo' do' Chevis bread winner, bout to rep the logo Tours in Tokyo, and Amsterdam If I'm featured on a song, then it have to jam Eat n***az up, like a rack of lamb For power I spit bars, like battle ram Call the ambulance, tell 'em stitch this track If my verse ain't hot, tell 'em hit me back As a matter of fact, we go dolla for dolla Independent got our pockets, bout the size of Kamala Getting big of shotter, balling with your honey Gambling this sh*t, f**king off the show money [Hook] Wreckshop and Chevis, and we go hard in the paint Gotta hitting the town, overseas and swiss banks No blank checks, or who next to plex with the best Suggest your wearing a vest, or get a hole in your chest You better ride out (ride out), ride out (ride out) Ride out (ride out), ride out (ride out) [Tyte Eyez] Excuse a young n***a, for taking up too much space A lyrical drop out, it's Tyte Eyez Releasing rhymes from my vocals, making 'em hit the deck E.S.G. and Po-Yo, got's to give us respect
Chin check is what they catch, for f**king around with some veterans Relieving pain from your pain, like a bottle of Excedrin Dirty 3rd's the section, we filling all prescriptions From pills to codeine, to ecstasy we granting wishes Eat steak on platinum dishes, going fishing in the Gulf North pull out the boat, and let the jet skis float Dirty 3rd's the coast, and we some superstars Wearing ten around our neck, investing fifty in a car And if you ever see me rolling, blowing weed into traffic Ain't no high side with me, you need to postally autograph it Ain't no calling you fishes or b**ches, or even scrubs Cause we get it how we live it, and that's ghetto love [Hook] [E.S.G.] I'm leaving stains in they brains, sixteen bars of pain Like a four year old kid, putting her'on in they vein They addicted when it's spitted, well kid I'm working Trunk on wave, just like a white boy serving 20's be hurting, when I hit the curb slow Make sure next year, y'all reserve the front row At the Grammy's, haters can't stand me Condo in Texas, beach house in Miami What you dream about I done it, rap game I run it Bank account on swoll, like Big Moe's stomach Last year was a good one, reached my quota Forbes Top 50, came right on over Sammy Sosa taking over, mashing Rugers Riding candy Winebagos, Compact computers Wreckshop and Chevis, worth a bill each now Sitting on 22's, shutting the whole piece down [Hook x2]