[Verse 1: Styles P]

Everybody turned up, me I'm just burned up

Sour lit, piff lit, flying through the district

My swag's in the weed bag

Live up in the hotel, hangout where the G's at

Where the B's and the C's at?

You fall back, or you ease back

But a real homie'll rise up

Think of the 4-4 long, you got me sized up

I'm too old for the dumb shh-

Cold for the numb shh-

Hand on the gun grip

The top down with the blunt lit

Flying, thinking of hundreds

I'm in the juice game and the book game

But I'm still rapping, got my mass and my cook game

It's midnight but we 730

We legit, but forever dirty!

So even if I'm thin, G

That old sweatsuit, got a pocket full of them Benjies

I want a goose neck in the benzie

Still feel the pain from the cocaine frenzy

80s, 90s and 2Gs, knew I was too G, listened to Kool G!

No gun or knife then I'm throwing the two piece

Cop me a new pair of kicks if my shoes crease

Lines and holes, just like a loose leaf

Dope lines, bullet holes, homie, is you sleep?

Yeah, you better wake up then, you ain't gettin it

Get a job, cake up then!

If the nine don't work, throw the eight up then

I'm a crooked dude, but I'mma tell you straight up then

Yeah, we both rap but you know that the ghost trap

Back room from the back room with the dope track, big

[Verse 2: Chris Rivers]

I'm unchained, unblinded, unparallel minded

As I refined to combine with the finest finds of Titan

Vicious like lightning, Vikings enticed by full moons on islands

Filled with the loot that eluded troops of previous tyrant

Devious rhyming, see me when writing

Feasting with lions and preaching the science

That help me sleep and reap the defiance

No need for silence, my voice is heard through leagues in the darkness

I'm preaching the marches, I speak so deep

I preach through a carcass and speak to the spirit

Guaranteed deceased, read my lyrics

Chris seek it and feel it, the best just since they dreamed of a Phoenix

In hopes of rebirth, I broke in the Earth when I spoke in reverse

I wrote with compressed quota, put the diamond to dirt

And grew a money tree in custody of Chris & Dragon company

My cutlery is comfortably the sharpest of the underlings

And don't compare to no one

Verbal's like a Shogun, hotter than the whole sun

Bars are like a Volcon, I split in form, Voltron

An ocean's like a proton, compared to my emotions

Chris Rivers got the potions

That cures, I know the remedies

Equity is never seen

Type of guy you'll never meet

And still have me in memories

[Interlude: Vinnie Paz]

Yeah, HAHAHAHA!

Vinnie Paz! Pistolero Pazzy! Mi hermano!

Chris Rivers, Pinero The Ghost

Listen, yeah

[Verse 3: Vinnie Paz]

This Guerrilla rap right here, life in a box

Keep a razor under the tongue and slice with the ox

You's a batti bwoi, you be in the cypher with cops

And the Freedom Arm cool but I'm nicer with Glocks

Listen, I ain't gon' hold you, I'm liable to box

And roll four, five, six with the dice on your blocks

I'm a stealth bomb, move silent, sly as a fox

And while you at it, maricón, say goodbye to your pops! (Bye, bye!)

My hand speed move at 200 nautical knots

The word's a gun, the rhyme is an audible shot

A horrible plot, but this is just a hobby to him

Like sippin' Grey Goose, smoking Bob Marley with him

You don't want war, you'll be countin' bodies with him

In his house, John Gotti was just godly to him

Any East Coast paisan, probably kin

Prolly connected to South Philly robbery with him (You is just a sweet Vic')

Your on and on cypher probably Djinn

Lookin' like you got the monster, remarkably thin

The darker the sin, the darker that the sorcerer been

That's the opposite of life, that's the start of your end, stupid!

[Outro: Vinnie Paz]

HAHAHAHAHA!, Boxcutter Pazzy

Chris Rivers, Pinero The Ghost

Killadelph, Valpensy to New York

I'm not you, rapper!

I'm a G! HAHAHAHAHA!