[Verse 1 - Dat Throwdest Ghost]
Could you be that missing piece?
Lost in that forbidden place
Fruits of this labor, too busy out here stuffing face
Lemme cut to the chase, cut me check, then run away
Nike the beat, remain at pace
This life I chose to lead, this should always keep me space
Ay, wait, ay, woah, ooh!
Smooth on tunes, since I stepped foot out this womb, who?
Woosh, when this ghost is in the booth
Spitting reckless, throwing hexes
Perpetual flexes for these hecklers
And right there, this level's complete
I pay no mind, can't find no time, yet they're still fucking with me
Freeze; Smallest hand on the iciest watch
Gliding right past 3 o'clock
Maneuvers for a movement, all you feel is aftershock
Rulez and I, all we do is plot
They're better off playing hop-scotch
I keep on thinking out the box
Way outta pocket, but we're still fresh off the block
Get it, non-stop
Didn't take no baking soda for us to make it pop, pop, pop!