[Verse 1]

I got my name on blast like ankle monitors over low socks

Theirs holds water like colanders on a stovetop

Played the game, and barely got it locked like Prop Joe

The numbers never drop. All good if my stock slow

Debut older than my students schoolin mentors

Since a teenager, never waited on their ten-four

Superhuman heat vision chewin through a lead wall

From inside Gardens of Eden the gatekeepers fenced off

How they shed more sense than fear?

Don’t wanna pay their dues and still lose once the checks have cleared

Wanna work on some heat? Hit me in 2023…

But I’ma be honest: expect an expensive year

Only gonna travel far as my commute will take me

Unless you’re payin what could change life for my wife and baby

Soon as I stopped complaining, I started serving the customers

Steep hills of stats at my feet Watch me run 'em up

[Hook]

We were hermits in a barrel full of crabs

Now it’s too much bread for us to battle for some cash

The target’s not a rapper. It’s the bag

The target’s not a rapper. It’s the bag

[Verse 2]

When the raptors in the coop, it gets quiet for the chickenhawks

Globe full of money, was worried bout what the city thought

Salary isn’t capped when it’s no borders on the market

But they’d rather sacrifice a limb than let it support other artists

I mean...rappers were really battlin over East Room!

Twitter beefs like cheap fuel in a fiend’s spoon

Last city in the world where the squares in the game

Couldn’t share any gains but blamed it on “street rules?”

Bullshit. That’s not a blade, it’s a charade

That these fools clipped from marketing toolkits

They aren’t villains. They’re just sensitive and jealous

Anandd beefing with twenty-somethings to deflect from their successes

Like there’s not enough money on the planet for the rest of us

As we watch em buildin with these buzzards and predators

No disrespect, just a motive for the scene:

What’s an MVP mean if it’s no trophies for the team?