[Verse 1]

They been talking about nothing (nothing) So Fuck em

I ain’t got no problem tellin em’ that I’m above em’

I told em’ that I got em’, when I hit em’ they gon’ love it

I do it for my people at the bottom sitting with nothing

You listening to suckas

You trippin if you ain’t fuckin with me

I’m sick with this shit I should see somebody discuss it

I’m something else so enough with all that shit you come up with

It must be luck cause you suck but you all in public

I’m wondering now who’s funneling thousands into muthafuckas that sound like

Nothing that should be found

Its nothing to me, I’m out this bitch

And if the label heads are picking this then I don’t know about this shit

So go ahead & keep all that

I ain’t finna leave, I’ma need you to fall back

They say we gotta see the reasons fiends give it all back

You see, I see all that & say

They been talking about nothing

[Hook]

They been talking about nothing

But they been listening

So I don’t even know who to blame, I’m saying

They been talkin bout nothing

[Verse 2]

So what we talking bout, real shit? We talking about rhymes?

You ain’t talking about a million then you wasting my time

I been hearing it all my life & I’m witnessing it this might

Be the shit that’s been killin us and we living inside a fight

& this pipe is part of the vice

& we paying for it, dealing it

Giving it for the price

Then we mix it with sprite

We ain’t living this life right & we know it

RIP all the ones who died I’m alive

And I’m listening like, how do people connect?

I guess if the beat is louder than nowadays it don’t matter the message is intercepted

Tell em’ they need a Tek & they need 1 right now this second

These niggas gon’ ride out on you based on the color you dressed in

Get rid of that weapon

& pick up that pen

Think of a couple of different things

Something to get you ahead of the shit that you let get the better of you

When you vent and you went and you sent us a letter defending

Everything you was pretending

[Hook]

[Verse 3]

I ain’t never seen this many wannabe rapping

Happen to have a track, a mac, a microphone, a sac of weed & some raps

That he wrote on a napkin, a Cadillac captured on camera passing

A couple of ho’s in back of the whip to keep us distracted

I’m acting like this don’t work but shit, listening to your verse

Is bearable when you sitting with chick in that mini skirt

But you terrible and its written in pen and you inadvertently

Shared the shittiest-shit ever recorded on this earth

Na, I’m just kiddin your kinda cool I’m just perfect

Na, I just put in work & its worth it, I hope you nervous

So give it to her

She lit up the herb

Picked it up where I left it in return

She recited my verse and forgot about yours