Lem: Watch! Yo, this dude thinks his shit is safe! Windows break mother fucka
Homie 1: Ooooo
Homie 2: Slump! He’s slump!
Homie 1: Easily!

Homie 1: Why the fuck you breathing so hard? Sounds like you in lunch line at fat camp!
Homie 2: Aye man, it’s just called being big boned mother fucker!
Homie 1: Pfft
Homie 2: With yo meerkat-looking ass…

[The Homies]
Whoa
Ducking po po
Or should I say poo poo
We all doo doo though
Well at least me and my niggas are (yessir!)
Triggers get aimed at we
So we shoot back
Cuz if not, that’s lame as fuck
Suck on deez
We stuck in a circle, so we pass the trees
Black cat: public enemy number one
Number one reason I got gun
Nigga you ain’t got one
But - well if they think I do it’s all the same son!
So try to run
See what happens
My bad must a been a mishap
It’s the maddest savages north of the bottom of the planet
Land of the freebase
Nigga try to escape

Erase any grin
While we chasing down gin
With a fifth Hennessy
And a spliff to the face
Race up to the corner
By the gun shop?
No the one stop
The McDonald’s?
No Donald’s Liquor!
Lick a thicker chick by Lucky Yips, I -
I know you ain’t getting any mother fucker!
Man, plenty to go around
But Mr. Brown, you gotta prove yourself
And with that tat on yo neck, you might as well turn around that gat and shoot yourself
Suit yourself man, at least I got a daddy
Yeah but he’s a crack addy
Plus yo mama threw some crack at me

[Lem]
Yo shut the hell up!
Both of ya’ll niggas come to school wearing Polo every single day
Driving range rovers, both of ya’ll got mommas and pops that love you
They both got jobs putting food on the table every single night
And the only crack addicts here are you two
Staring at girl’s behinds that you’ll never be behind!

Homie 2: Man, what the fuck man
Homie 1: Here this boy goes again!
Homie 2: Yo, ya just gotta leave him alone ‘till he’s finished man
Homie 1: It’s just weird, it’s just weird!
Homie 2: Man, that nigga freaky!

[Lem]
Let earth receive her king
Fill my chalice with gasoline
Basket offerings of matches
You’ll always catch me lit
Quick to grip a slipped nip
Every cent represent and endless cycle

Bending icicles
Check my ISO, 1-0-0
The flow crack skulls under malediction
Spring in action, fuck a cast-less life
Casket-eyed
Sun-dried heart
It’s an art to make you sing
When the shots echo
Yo trust me I’m breaking cello
Listen here young fellow
Keep off kettle when it’s steaming off
Sleeve to cough
Shit gets twisted off
Your detox
Watch your six with swift fists
From the Fifth Avenue
View him hooded at the venue
Eye’s glued to the revenue
Genjutsu will bend you blue
And when you snooze you hear him
Knock 10 without a breath spent
Nor a Z piece to me
By the way you bleed, G
Bust a knee like I’m sixty
Young trickster slip a six through security
Infiltrate your reupholstered vicinity (*heavy breathing*)
Where is he?
At the summit
Coming knuckle bear
Buck tooth
But only who do so
One without a floor
Four cores for more fours
All my pots and galore
Nigga

More stints, and every splints worth it
Looking for a fix
Just to get his kick in
Picking four-to-six shifts
Just to scrap my living
Nah, I’m hitting the pimple-ridden pitiful kid
Noose grip cerebral
Flare out, flare in
Blaring Heron, to you chipped birds
Hitting hearse
I’m thieving
Peeping every cleavage
And seizing for leaves and
Caught him leaving, weaving
Through trees and bushels
Shh, shh!
The kush don’t flush well
Don’t utter this to my mother
Just another son with no one
Ear drum crack when one come too closely
Or if he part the posse
His life costly
Jot me down for the crown
Pound for pound I snatch livings
Or 40 ounces of gin singing
“Whoa-oo-oh”
The crowns inscribed
I dive
Ya’ll better grab the iodine
Looking for it with his iron sights
Fear within the dying lights

Let earth receive her king
Fill my chalice with gasoline
Basket offerings of lighters

[Lem + The Homies]
Brother
Brother
Brother
Did I stutter?
Grab that cutter
Don’t utter this to my mother, trick
Spliff in my fist
Ripping this prick’s Civic
Quick, quick, six on the wrist!
Sitting, lurking
Or swerving in the hit six-stick-shift

Homie 1: Vroom vroom mother fucker!
Homie 2: Yo! Hit that 90! Hit that 90!
Lem: Yo we was out of there so quick!
Homie 2: Take a right, take a right!
Homie 1: Whoa!
Lem: My man didn’t even know what hit him! Yo we gone!
Homie 2: Yo we stopping at McDonald’s I’m hungry as shit!
Lem: Yo, no, we’re not going to McDonald’s
Homie 1: Relax!
Homie 2: Yo I’m hungry as shit and I’m high as shit
Lem: None of ya’ll getting no food!
Homie 2: Yo c’mon, who paying for me though?
Homie 1: Fuck you mean?!
Homie 2: I’m broke as shit man! C’mon!
Homie 1: Shit
Lem: Yo, shut the hell up, both of ya’ll! I swear, I’m not taking ya’ll nowhere no more!