WYATT:

Overhead shot of the town

To find 40PF standing in front of crowd

Pan left

There’s the hold-em shot, she’s the one with the Jordan IV high-tops

Color way by Isaiah Scott

Now go long, ultra wide, field of size my dick in a dick pic

You’ll be pleasantly surprised (I joke)

Two shot of a couple of kids fucking up simple kick flips on the

Sidewalk lip

Now freeze this frame for Ant, Soffe shorts, C cups, and yoga pants

Quick cut to a dance

Her booty clapping fast who would’ve thought white girls with ass

So dense

Could last this long with a wide angle lens

Could pass over with a crane. We’re killing it, they can’t be contained

Can we get this girls name? It’s Desiree I think, THANKS

Now kick this beat hard let’s the leave track to relieve scars go

FORREST:

When I write, it’s a critical strike

On the mic, I ignite

Blaze your brain till it’s high as a kite

And goddamn, this beat is tight

Makes me wanna spit

On a roll

Let’s go

Fo sho, Fo-Jay going out of control

Like a domino, set em up and knock em to the floor

Indivisible rhyming miracles, since our shit was 70% satirical

And now we’ve grown up, honed up the craft

Rocking other entertainment, loving making people laugh

Futile to resist, impossible to misinterpret

The future’s looking bright as a bitch

Shiny like a magnitude negative 25

Flying high up in the sky like Delphi’s god

Damn, what you gonna say

When you get to listen to my boy Anthony J

ANTHONY:

Holla back, late night menu snack

Sixty acre beat farm, we be swimming keeping up laps

Track and Field, hit the ground running with our hands

Beat the ever loving shit out that goddamn mat

In fact I be a big fish swimming in a small tub

Tongue stud, damn girl, can I get another one?

Born from a killer, I die as a killer

I break the barrier between right and wrong

In song and in session, call you out in confession

Pastor Jackson knows all your many imperfections

What’s the question? I zoned out, like the porno shop

Next to the fucking truck stop

I know the owner Debbie, she had me at “Fuck me”

She gave me two tapes, and all I got to say

“Baby got back with an ass like that”, I said

“Baby got back with an ass like that”

Go Scurvy!

SCURVY D:

Feel the rhythm, feel the rhyme

Frames coming at you like it’s bobsled time

Up in your grills, giving you chills

Beats so good it’s gotta be a crime

Want my advice? Never think twice

A twenty could hit with a roll of the dice

Oh shit, that’s a crit

Take your turkey with rice

And find a lady who’s nice and one that’s full of spice

Feel the flame, feel the fire

You got what you got, ‘cause you got no desire

Watch your damn mouth, won’t settle for a liar

The lyrics gonna pop the top off The Shire

Make them hobbits shimmy and shake

You want to change the dial, you better pop them brakes

We’ll steal your whip, and then we’ll change the plates

Like some cold mother fuckers playing GTA