[Verse]

They try to cage us in

Release the rage within

Sometimes you gotta break the rules when you’re playing to win

‘cause the game is rigged

And the odds are stacked in the favor of the dealers

Got an ace and a jack

So it’s time to start taking it back our own way

They made a list of rules that we have to obey

But they never took our opinion or gave us a say

That’s why we get up on these walls, writing BODK

It’s the brink of dеstruction

The people gеt sucked in

Conform to the norm ’til their brains can’t function

They wanna live in Pleasantville, white picket fences

We just wanna bomb shit and tag it up relentless

Deep in the trenches, putting the work in

We hit a lot of spots, yeah, that’s for certain

Going out at midnight, crossing out [?]

Put a “BODK” right above it for my boys

Yo, Wisdom, one of my closest friends

We blood brothers in this life

We in this ’til the end

And you always had my back

I won’t forget that

Mr. Knock-fools-out-in-one-hit-like-crack

Aiyo, Dermis, don’t think I forgot when you told me…

To put your name on the track, here it is, homie

We’ve been through some crazy shit

I’ll admit that I’m glad to see you doing well

Thanks, Danielle

My man, Sorrow, the one who put me up on game

Introduced me to underground

It was never the same

Though it was many years ago, I still remember getting tapes at [Access?] in my Nissan Sentra

Yo, Pupil, the man who produced this beat

This is ride-or-die shit, homie, hip-hop elite

We teamed up again after ten years plus to make an album that bumps

Ain’t no one fucking with us

My man, Mikey, I don’t know where you’re at, but still…

I hope you’re doing good and chilled out on the pills

Remember skating at Discovery? Taking me out?

Busting switch nose slider 360 flip-out

Aiyo, Sense, don’t think that I forgot you, man

Remember skating [?] at 3am

I couldn’t fit in one song all the shit we been through

I’ve done a lot of tracks but this one is for my crew

(*sample*)

It goes black books, markers, Krylon cans

Roller extensions with gloves on my hands

And though it’s in the past, I still got mad love

And I wouldn’t go back and trade those times for nothing

No discussion

I can still feel that rush, when I think about hitting up spots, running from cops

Shout to my man, Ops

Peace to Eugene

Rest in peace, Joe Kemper and the big homie, [Seen?]