[Verse 1: Oktane]

How you feel about it?

Nothing's real about it

Man these rappers can't rap

As soon as you ask 'em to rap

They gon' pull out their phone or look back at they’re pack like "attack”

What the fuck they 'bout to do for you, my nigga

Get a bar life or get a clue, my nigga

No more booze or women for these quote unquote rappers

Until they start tellin' the truth my nigga

Ain't no game, ain't no scrimmages

I done came face to face with these images

That's a lot different that what they present to kids

I think them Benz’s ain’t rented

Look at'em, them Benz’s ain’t tinted

You don't really get it

You just pump fake and they jump to the ceiling

You get off your pivot

When that lane get open you lay up and dunk it

That's why it’s bumpin'

Let me tell you something, boy, here come that pressure

I studied everyday and night, I stayed up late to write

About everything from crazy nights to what ladies like

If I rhyme a word I ain't say it twice

So if you play I pray you nice

The kings are here, the weed is lit, the seats are taken

Everybody awake? Then cool let 'em know

You got two young players that ain't scared of you

I take care of you

[Verse 2: Price]

Dearly beloved

I'm clearly disgusted

The game need some adjustments

If they ain’t talkin' pack flippin', rack strippin', or bustin'

Then they ain't talkin' about nothin'

There’s sadly a shortance on substance

They'd rather subtweet

I was raised on Rakim, E-40, and WC

Redman, Method Man, and Bun B

Used to write to 50 Cent's "In Da Club" beat

Wishin' I had a shot, I ain't never have a pops

So I got top country grammer seen Nelly on top

And I knew that I had to pop

See Luda had me throwin' them 'bows

B.G. and Turk had me rockin' Girbaud’s

Master P had a gee ‘bout it fa' sho'

And Fabolous had me in love with the hoes

I just wanted to flow in a cypher or a booth

Rap on a stage or in my room

Man, I just wanted to give 'em truth

The same truth Snoop gave on Gin and Juice

The way I feel about the game I'd offend a few

But so what? This my shit

And it's a lot I can’t vibe with

With lyrics you can understand voices all high pitched

So-called rappin' man

That shit need to die quick

Open your eye lids

My music lovers, we need your help

Don't cheat yourself, treat yourself

My mama told me the only way that I can lose is if I beat myself

So you can suck right beneath my belt

For misusing what saved my life

Like Dre ain’t raised you right

Like Missy ain’t make you hyped

Like Outkast wasn’t nationwide

But soon, they’ll be sayin’ "Thank you, Price"

For taking care

[Cypher: Kent M$ney]

Respect over everything

Rubberband wedding ring

Forever gon' hold the hustle down

Puff a pound with laughter

Ain’t no other sound neither

Keep a smile seeded

Good vibe like granny cooking on Sundays

Chasin' billboards with bills on the board, but someday

But some say I’m a genius

Got a nact for these words

Greatest ever

Forever meaning dude keep track of these verbs

Let ‘em sleep on

Brand, not bland through any season

Keep on, unlike like clothes on bitches for money reasons

Learn what level you on, get back to me nigga

Quick jab, black yo eyes

Usher and faculty nigga

You know I love to make dollas only if it makes sense

Cop a ticket, hit a country

Where the people ain’t tense

I’m convinced, I ain’t really me no more

Gettin’ better by the day, young chemo flow

Free no goal, that work mean to him no budge

No quality to where you grind at

Free to move but your Mind Trap nigga!