[Verse 1: MIKE]

It's either you fam or you food, it's only my mans in the room

I do this dance for the sun, with both of my hands on the moon

A lot of you niggas is trash, I guess I'm extending the broom

I did this work all alone, please stop pretending it's you

I spent some days in my room, so I could present this to youth

My boys need a ring this year, and I need a letterman too

Youngest in the game right now, but i'm making veteran moves

I need that guaca right now, smellin' like Mexican food

Fuck, I just said food twice, boy I'm a star in the blue night

Boy, I'ma bar if the mood right, noisey my bars when the tune hype

You spitting but you ain't really move MIKE

When you on stage, you don't move mics

[Verse 2: Johnny U]

MIKE-y set the mood right with food twice, far out gimme two slices

Who's nice as this? Who writes like this?

You paid his dues on used mics or slightly preowned, rightly he owns all the steaks

Y'all fight for meat bones

Write and rewrite rhymes, the reflex time is tight like ice to knee bones

I just said bones twice, roll this track like pits to Old Spice

Golden flow just pissed and missed the bowl, mister old guy

Fists of coals, hot furnace burnin', might preach a sermon on demon worship

This evil wordsmith will have you asking 'fore you open that trap, go to spittin' that rap, is it even worth it?