[Intro: Styles P (Joe Budden)]

"Space Ghost" (uh)

D-Block (uh)

Niggas know what it is (ta ha)

If they don't, they fucked up

Right (talk to 'em)

[Verse 1: Styles P]

Dark forces, get on the level

'Cause you might see an iced out cross on the Devil

Illuminati and Masons, what are we facin'? (what are we facin'?)

See you at the crossroad, death's vacation ('cation)

Shit is like "Fright Night", get you a nightlight

Two blunts, Zeitgeist (Zeitgeist) but mami is Christ like

Now niggas wanna look like women

Tight pants, costume jewels, I guess they CEO might bend 'em

God bless 'Pac but they ain't got Thug Life in 'em (God bless)

God bless Big but they don't know the Everyday Struggle (God bless)

I keep it thorough, everywhere that I bubble and you bubble gum (you bubble gum)

Chew you up, spit you out nigga, 'cause I'm troublesome (troublesome)

And if they lyrical, then what the fuck am I? (tell me)

The maker of miracles, every couple of lines (lines)

Parallel lines in my soul, in my mind (parallel)

Then make the jewels unfold every time that I rhyme (uh)

You's a speck and I'm spectacular (spectacular)

Audio fuckin' up your cardiovascular (what up?)

Lyrically spit shit, flip like a spatula (flip)

Married to the game and you just a bachelor (bachelor)

SP and the Mouse in this bitch (what up?)

And I want it quiet as a mouse in this bitch (ssssh)

Burn you and your car and your houses and shit (poof)

Don't you ever say you hard if I ain't vouch for the shit (nigga)

[Verse 2: Pusha T]

It's like a never endin' story, I'm here for my glory

The engine's too loud, these haters can't ignore me

Feelin' like a legend, anyone that came before me

Drug dealer, posin' all this motherfuckin' jewelry (motherfuckin' jewelry)

Came from the crack house, back room, black out

Smoke hit they lungs, make 'em UFC Tapout

No plan B, it was nothin' else to map out

So we throw stones while we livin' in this glass house (glass house)

It's been a minute so they ask where the fire went

My kitchen clean but I still got the pilot lit

Made a fortune out of fumes, my MacGyver shit

Reality TV before Survivor, bitch

Yuuuck, put our lives on display

Who's thinkin' about tomorrow? We ain't promised today

This rap game fickle, we ain't promised to play

The last of the greats, pay homage to me

[Verse 3: Joe Budden]

Yo, if my past had an encore, it'd be like an onslaught

A lot of niggas died, there's too many to mourn for

I'm thinkin' about my youth, us as little kids, am I wrong for

Havin' thoughts Bishop Eddie would Long for?

I got decade old wounds, that'll still bleedin'

That chapter of my life's closed, that y'all still readin' (still readin')

Straight face on, pretendin' to feel decent

Casket shoppin' for a loved one that's still breathin' (still breathin')

Uh, swear that shit got in the way of summer

Avoidin' calendars, since all your days were numbered

Laid out in the bed, could barely sit up (uh)

Those were your last breathes, I was mistakin' for hiccups (oh!)

Y'all don't get the picture (uh), when your medicine is liquor (uh)

I'm talkin' phone ringin', bein' too afraid to pick up

I know you in a better place and that joy is felt

I learned when death calls, it won't leave a voicemail (nah)

You would be proud, I'm due to be caked up

Wanna make your dreams come true? Gotta wake up (gotta wake up)

You groupie niggas, I don't see how you deal with it

Broke and starvin' but clingin' to your meal ticket (meal ticket)

Broke hustlers that bake that trash

Back and forth to they vacant stash

Still in all I know a few that'll make that cash

Quick flip (uh), even Rex Ryan ain't lose the weight that fast

Y'all should treat me like royalty (royalty)

Last of a dyin' breed, that puts money and power behind loyalty (word)

Careful, that bitch shit'll rub off

Me, I'd rather die with my balls, than have to live with 'em cut off (cut off)

Long winded, be patient enough to hear 'em

I'll give you the jewels, if you brave enough to wear 'em

But know before you swallow it up

Food for thought's only as important as what'll follow it up, Joey

(Joey...)

[Outro: Joe Budden]

Ta ha

Dessert for thought for y'all

Uh, go 'head, live with that

Yeah