[Verse 1: Trip]

Brand new nose, considering old habits

I can’t do blow ‘cause it be a closed casket

Slipping on the snow I know it was so tragic

No more addict only high as four attics

But might have a habit of rapping this boom bap shit

Boom clap shit

Do bad shit whenever I DOOM mask it

Who’s that kid, Ooh that’s Trip

And he’s sparkling as two of Mike Jack’s fists

I’m Moonwalking like it’s Lupin shooting all his magic

Powerful as Potter when he’s casting with two black sticks

Avada Kadavra then Trip do that shit

And he’s killing any emcee that's thinking they can pass him

Young Potter off a blotter

These beats I’m finna martyr

Talk shit, grab stick, then bitch, Expelliarmus

Like Crucio, this crucial flow that's harming

I prepare the Martian’s for this careless caution

This Annunaki shit is not soft and

It’s often why you’re flaunting and you’re barely motherfucking conscious

Alien in the public, only human with emotions

Drugs made me neurotic, nose was bleeding like it’s broken

Red like Oklahoma, Tyler, no Okonma

You other rappers semicolon

Point blank, period

Doink, dank, serious

Decipher my raps just like Mayans with their pyramids

Trip and Pat, finna run it back and these other rappers fearing us

Vans still dirty, soul struggled with abuse

Everyday was war, I got nothing left to lose

Lost a couple mics, he was bugging me like June

I suck a friendships, now I’m Draking in the booth

People thought I lost it, but I still gots the Juice

Now I’m only rolling, sipping Brandy then I’m loose

Me and Ollie off the Goose

People lying ‘bout the levels that we stooped

[Verse 2: P Walsh]

This is my sadistic syllabus

My synopsis can snap your synapses

From town to Moscow, Psycho on a Dell, call my spit Slavic

Slashing stations when the shit is slapping

Wack rappers, their thalamus I'm slamming

They're cooking trash rap and selling to the masses

Fascists can get fastened to a Jag and driven into cactus

You will never catch this, spitting like it's rapids

On a Grand assent, I rep Middlesex and Essex

Wake up and smell the essence

Rappers don't have assets, listen to their accents

This assonance is no accident

Like the competition's writtens in a trash bin

I'm Em', you don't wanna a problem

Ask Kim, dashing raps until my abs thin

Guess that means that I'm Slim

(I guess that means that I'm slim)

[Verse 3: P Walsh]

Y'all are restrained, I'm miscellaneous, extraneous

Ranging from all nations and persuasions

I'm your craving, face it cause it's laminated, you're emancipated

My proclamation is not feather weighted (nah)

I'm forever hated in the cellar, basement

Hell or haven, brain waves defacing the weather station

Wasted reputation, Never praising negligation

Engraving sayings into several pages

Civil patron, but dismissing many matrons

Mason in the making, native to the matrix

These infatuations don't abate, create abrasions

Staying In the Sun to save the Raisins from the litigation

Legitimation, I fillet and they're the waitress

Diversification, I'm the verdict and equation

This verse just another godforsaken grave to stick the nail in

But I can't take it

[Verse 4: P Walsh]

‘Cause I think I need a neurologist

Thoughts raining down, where's the meteorologist?

Honestly, I'm in need of psychiatric assistance

Obstacles coming at me with a tragic persistence

I'm sorry in advance if I'm at a dismissive distance

Chronic traumatic encephalopathy symptoms

Despondent like an NFL veteran after concussions

Constant coverups of collisions lead to conundrums

Increase in suicidality, these are dualities

Of what you'll do for sanity and do for the salary

Sacrificing longevity at the hands of the battery

For immediate happiness, but your cranium's shattering

Maybe I should see a counselor to confess

Profess dementia to professionals so I can progress

Just like I did when I was ten and I was depressed

Or maybe locking me in the asylum's what's for the best

[Outro]

No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for