[Verse 1: Hopsin] Welcome to the Ill Mind of Hopsin, where real life's an option Ill lines that I spit make you realize you not sick Science at its finest, tell Bill Nye to watch it Now turn this shit the fuck up till you feel high and nauseous Yo, check out this verse I wreck, I think I'm more curse the blessed No one seems to know if my brain's the result of birth defects I need a solution, pastors tell me that church is best But they'll look at me devilish cause I'm how they interpret death Everybody's always acting fake, rappers I hate be asking to collaborate It's sad to say but it's the truth, that instead of trying to congratulate They got they hands out like we playing a game of Patty Cake But that ain't what I'm focused on The day I step up in the lab with a sell out will be the day all hope is gone The game's filled with a bunch of faggots who don't belong Always claiming they real niggas but I ain't notice one
[Verse 2: Roscoe Dash] Where the fuck'd he come from and why is he here? Dressed in some dope shit your stylist probably would wear Look like Egyptian hieroglyphics set shit off in his hair And the message is no one in this day or time could compare Practice makes perfect, I practiced my whole life Far from perfect but my worst shit is lapping em all twice But like I put the "I" in win, cause I did it my whole life So your first place or second statistics are all hype I'm all flight, no really, I'm all flight I live in the sky and get higher than four kites If your girl like my music, don't worry it's alright The day we meet'll never happen, my hours are all night I work hard, pay off, plus the evidence, nigga All my pockets best friends with Dead Presidents, nigga Right hook the whole world, throw your bell for these niggas No wonder they kept a spot on double X L for a nigga
[Verse 3: Machine Gun Kelly] When I come around, people smell trouble I don't fuck with Photoshop, so holler at me when you wanna see a real jungle The Eastside where fiends huddle Outta towners come across them potholes stumbling, make their knees buckle Street signs'll read struggle Every couple months another shirt with R.I.P's and we love you's Instead of leaving school my friends are leaving out in a duffel I bleed hustle, why the fuck I need muscle, run tell them that I'm going in like needles in war wounds Kids at the dorm rooms, syringes and harpoons Summertime hot couple months before June And have star power while in the planet below moon Now that's classic, and with all of this wackness Crowd for providing this track here it's madness Without a witch and some spells I made magic Motherfucking monster, Lake Placid, Kells Bring that shit back, bring that shit back, now bring that shit back Lace up, uh I'mma consider this class brother, now learn something A pocket roll, a E-Z Wider, a filter, a little hash so I can burn something Just to help you cope a little bit more Cause round here tomorrow isn't for sure And we coming up from mistake on the lake, double O Bag it up, then we wake as we bake, Double O's Burning up, then we making the cake, double stoves Then I hop up out the bitch with hella bread like a dozen loaves That's money, biatch!
[Verse 4: Future] Coke Boys, something like Montana With the bird gang like Santana Real street nigga repping for Atlanta Ain't dropped but I'm still in the Phantom And I blow that money fast like a candle Yeah, and I still got stamina Let my lil homie do you on camera Yeah we ain't nothing but some animals Got a house and a condo in Miami What you doing, what you do for the fucking Grammy I do what it take for the paper chase Freestyle, off the dome, whatever it take
[Verse 5: Danny Brown] Ho, the only thing you gotta know My dick's tucked around when I'm sitting on the flo' You think I'm gon' fall off, got advice for you, homes Fall asleep in your car, in the garage, with the engine on Playing Ping Pong with your bitch jaws You the type to have a sing-a-long in Superman drawers I got a redhead ho, call it Molly Ringwald She like to take a lot of Molly and bring Adderall Sipping white wine til the sun set Before it got dark, she already got naked Then she start to neck it, then she got reckless Rump shaker, Wreckx-N-Effect it Bum stiggedy bum stiggedy bum, Das EFX shit Left her bum sticky, fell asleep on the terrace Me on the beat, that's a hate crime With black ink, I murder white linesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
