Jas Mace Verse

I stick and move like a needle in the groove ha
what you want to do fool, I ain't got nothing to prove
to be the champ you have to beat the champ
but don't rub me the wrong way or I'll show up like the genie in the lamp
up out a cloud of smoke I hope you choak
bitting so much it might get stuck in your throat
you can't cope with the rigorous training
it got you going insane and you ain't conditioned for this game mane
it aint the same it's bigger than the fame
and those checks that you collect, they go out just as quick as they came
you can blame it on promotions but you and I know the truth
those a&rs got you open
hoping on a quick hit like a junky's quick fix
so you can make some bullshit knowing that your heart ain't in it
now you living a gimmic and got caught up in the business the 49ers ain't
giving up the belts!

Marchitect Verse

The belt, the belt, that means I'm the champ
hit the casino like tito ortiz and just lamp
call the head of your label and I'll get right through
becasue the brother likes me more than he likes you
got heavy bags that I bite through hooks is going right through
the track, it's as if Mike Tyson's about to fight you
I heard you went out like von kyser
gave up rapping retired got wiser
hand a cuban to my trainer hold it down for my corner
at the weigh in talking shit while I'm toking marijuana
49er raps, that's a sucker's deathtrap
when they fall, and beg to get their last breath back
cause they succumb in the clutch to a back ally strangler
I make 'um want to pack a shank up in their wranglers
and we the brothers that put the green up in the canibus
you're about to get crushed no you suckers cannot touch the belts

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