Released on July 17, 2006

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[Verse 1: Trials]

Yo

I'm supposed to be humble? You're kidding

They still trying to cum onto women, I just finished cumming in 'em

Picturing 'em in their full flat

Mall rats enough goths, sluts coughed up what I poured down

It's your round, never mine and it stays that way

Until the day I federlined J. MacRae, ayy

Take the bait and I take your name instead of a couch

Tom Cruise the bit of your mouth now

I think it's evident now the evidence out

Settling downs out out the question

And how many thousand crew throw towels in to show their click

Fuck showmanship, I done showed their shit

Show the dick 'til the girl gets the cum out

Then...she get the fuck out!

Till we run out of drinks, I skull this one

Thinking out the box with my finger stuck in one


[Verse 2: Sesta]

Ayy

Come fuck around, fuck it I cum around

I hit your girl in the back while your son around

She's busy, run to the liqour shop and get a bottle

Kiddies love it, he's a role model

Low morals, beer goggles

Thick as a brick but I'm never double dipping the dick in the bitch

Fuck, I turn 'em vegetarian

The drunk pallbearer, holding wood trying to bury you

I give 'em clout, spread the rumour

Getting kicked out of clubs rocking second hand Pumas

Who got the illest sport? The name 'Oars

Encores they feel it boy more than they feeling chainsaws

We came, we saw, we fade 'em all, we did it

You prayed we'd fall, we didn't, huh you're kidding?

Walking in and we killing the vibe

You better hide the dinner knifes because I might...

[Hook: Trials & Sesta]

Blackout (what-wha-wha-what, what)

Blackout (what-wha-wha-what, what)

Yeah (what-wha-wha-what, what)

Better clean the gutter 'cause I'm going to, going to

Blackout (try come fuck around with the oars

That shit's lunacy, hey, Trials take a shit on these G.I. Joe mother fuckers)


[Verse 3: Trials]

Yeah that's Sesta raise a fucking toast for my man

We on the prowl for a piece of pussy with pokey tan

I'm talking takeover, time's up

See they struggling for styles when they hardly rhyme half the time

Real shit real hard to find

Oars play point-guard like Bali 9

They gotta stop it, another day at the office

And their name hold weightless that's why these mother fuckers drop it under

I'm the prophet that turns wine to vomit from my wallet with cob webs on it

If you sick of it, stop it

Listen to Common if you want some nice rap

If you like that, you probably got my shit and took it right back

Hilltop and Oars - That's the truth

Weapon X and Ken Hell - That's the booth

The shit's fake, major-label budget away from a piss tap

Best take the piss away before I

BLACKOUT!


[Verse 4: Sesta]

You ain't fucking with Ses, ask Pegz

You're harmless, the last pick a target

Gin start the bitch palming start

At a bargain [?] the answer

Body snatcher digging her out

A hundred motherfuckers is chilling me out, what the fuck?

Raise the terror level with every sip

So I get a better devil every drink, everythin'

Better than it's ever been, pink shirts and pop collared

Cock suckers, stop getting props without a top dollar

Rock bottom I've got 'em, I'm Lex in Gotham

You in the wrong city to stop him, drop it

Back in it raw, packing the floor

Stacking the door, that's what I rap for

I tag whores with an S on they chest

Far from super, duper, fuckers in the stoop for saying


[Hook: Trials]

Blackout (what-wha-wha-what, what)

Blackout (what-wha-wha-what, what)

Yeah (what-wha-wha-what, what)

Better clean the gutter cos I'm gonna, gonna

Blackout, bla-bla-blackout, blackout

Bla-bla-bla-bla-blackout, blackout

Blackout, bla-bla-blackout, blackout

Bla-bla-bla-bla-blackout, blackout

(What-wha-wha-what, what)

(What-wha-wha-what, what)

(What-wha-wha-what, what)

Better clean the gutter cos I'm gonna, gonna

BLACKOUT