[Verse 1: Samworth]
Fuck a part 2, I'ma rip apart the 1
Kill it with my lyrics and leave you with none
Munch all of my bread and leave behind the crumbs
They call me tweedle-dee and you are just dumb founded
Found it. The last hit of speed so I'm tweakadee
But don't get the wrong idea
I'm not an addict, I just go at it
I spend evens home alone in my addict
Trippin' on Psilocybin I grew in Gar V's garden
I'm having such a hard time not calling Gar V 'Marcus'
I am the devil
I write rhymes that's why you always bump this
People think trippin' sick 'till they think they tripped down a hole triple 6 deep
Real shit on that Mobb beat
Shit Samworth spit have you screamin' for mommy
You the type of cat to claim you are a hard G but when shit go down you run home with a nose so snotty
There ain't no room for shook ones in this crew, son
TM at the top
We rob people for fun
Now say your prayers to the tip of my gun
The mission is get money and I guess that ones done
So what's next on the list, I guess what I should ask is who else we gon' hit
Hotbox the world so the whole hood get lit and when we done we gon' run through ya bitch
Don't stop drinkin' till we finish the kit and snort another line 'till we fix the itch
Motherfucker I'm a monstar, drainin' energy, hittin' three pointers all up in these bars
Sip fine wine, cigars
Talkin' that bullshit boy, get thrown out the car

[Verse 2: Van Gar V]
Chillin' in my garden, Samworth called me 'Marcus'
Findin' it hard not to kill'em, and ditch the carcus
Put the shovel in the car, cuz
Carry on with my day, hope the police don't get on us
Cause Sam's dead
Hey that means that the team belongs to wait-
Unkown's in the way
Ain't lookin' for a slice, I want the whole damn cake
Sprayed the K at his vest but the tef' saved his chest
"The fuck you sayin'?!"
Tryin to get rid of the best
I messed up
Left alone, I'm stressed
Jk, how can I be stressed when I rest with the best ses, hey?
Ok, I admit, I drink a lot and it's effective
Don't think it's not effectin' my sighting
That's right, Bud Light perfects my wrighting
Everyday Struggle, this thug's been fighting
Scraps everyday but no scraps I'm biting
I go through a whole plate
Wait, fuck an eighth less it's yay'
I may fucks with the shit and not quit it, hoot it and not boot it
When you're bumpin' I mute it
Shoot at me?
Who's at me?
Who that be?
Screw it

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