[Intro: Isaiah Rashad]

Yeah

I'm just sayin' that, yeah

I just, damn

Ahem

Yeah, yeah

I take my licks in the storm—

[Verse 1: REASON & Joey Bada$$]

That storm headed, them doors severed

Fly around the chicken, I'm more breaded, my Lord better

Success in the air, my pores said it

They say I'm the greatest, nigga, them whores said it

Hopped in the Rolls, 2020, lock and I load

"Pop Shit" explode

Dot, Big Sean, Electron', feel like I gotta "Control"

My music connect with the people

And bridgin' like the top of thе nose

Soul, let 'em know 'bout thеm blocks that we rose from

Legend in my city, must acknowledge it

I hustle 'fore I fight, head down, Nate Robinson, wait

Similar to Nate 'cause we was runnin' from Jakes while makin' plates

I'm gettin' bread still

You niggas runnin' in place, I'm tryna treadmills

Monte had to sit down, so fuck the feds still

Got out, mansion in Victorville

We from the gutter, nigga, all day

So now, it's ghetto ponytails, nigga, we've come a long way

REAS' (Look, ugh)

[Verse 2: Joey Bada$$ & WESTSIDE BOOGIE]

Niggas want my old shit (Ooh), buy my old album (Yeah)

And tell your favorite rappers, "Come see me and peep the outcome"

I put a X right beside his name like Malcolm

And give his head to the nigga that he stole his style from (Heee, brrt, brrt)

I got a list of niggas to kill, don't ask, "How come?" (Boom, boom, boom)

Don't ask no names, just pray that you not one (Not one)

I ain't playin' with these niggas, but they still is my sons

And fuck your top five if I ain't your top one (Ooh)

These raps written in blood

I got lit off the buzz (Uh-huh), know how I'm feelin' this bud (Right)

I'm the king of my city (Facts), and I can feel all the love (Uh-huh)

There ain't nobody to trust (Nope), if niggas ain't one of us (Nah)

I see through the poker face, dawg, I'm callin' his bluff

I shine like a multifaceted gem in the rough

I'm passionate with every pen that I touch (Uh-huh)

It's like I wrote this shit in cursive (What else? Right)

God MC flow (Woo), nigga, these is Bible verses (God, yeah)

The feature fee won't include the hearses (No)

Same thing you gifted with is what you’ll be cursed with (What?)

Soul-searchin' 'til my flow's perfect or I’m lyin’ in the morgue

Thinkin', "Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore" (Yeah, yeah, ugh)

[Verse 3: WESTSIDE BOOGIE]

Who left the bricks on the floor? We too big on the boards, whoa

Smooth nigga, off the bench, I'ma score

I could hit a million hoes that's legit, but I'm sure

They don't make 'em like my bitch anymore

Who let these kids in the door? You was 'posed to keep it closed

Now, they in here throwing stones and break the window to my soul

Ain't no remote chance in Hell I ever let 'em get control, ugh

I surf the 'Gram and see the wave you niggas rode

Go to the board for the lesson

I'll be transparent with you, just don't be projecting

Who taught you to be armed and use your guard as a weapon?

Who told you hit your shell every time you feel threatened?

You know that I been stressed, I smoked a quarter by afternoon

I walk with a attitude

I gave you niggas change and got no token of gratitude

Like, what I gotta do to make you tap in?

I might fuck around, start beefing with my rap friends

Fuck you, REASON

[Verse 4: Denzel Curry]

Before we roam, let me go back to the start

'Cause art imitates life, and life imitates art

Once we start to dive in this knowledge and this wisdom

They gon' always wanna box us in like it's cubism

Knew about Picasso before I was a snot-nose

Before I had a pot to piss in, and 'fore a hot stove

Pressure is like walking across hot coal

I'm cooler than a North Face in Norway, Oslo

Everybody on this track is known to slay shit

JID gave me a reason to snap on Zay shit

Toy with my emotions, I am not one to play with

I'm rapping with these Top Dawgs to chill with my down bitch

That is no lie, I'm a nice guy and a wiseguy

With a bright mind, fresh out of Muay Thai

Don't like to beef with niggas 'cause they all pie

Only time they really caught a body was in Far Cry

Try to bring the Grammy to the crib, that's it

Why die to be a legend when I live that shit?

You could talk about my music, I don't give two shits

Because sooner or later, you gon' ride my dick

Icarus if I fall off, but I'ma soar

Like a sprained ankle when I landed on the floor

If you don't like the song, here's the exit door

'Cause they don't really make 'em like this anymore

[Verse 5: Jack Harlow]

Bitch, we've been bored, I wish we could tour

Girl, you need Christ, not Christian Dior

Why you keep tryn' take pics with me for?

Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore

A white boy broke her heart back in high school

Now she told me she ain't taking white dick anymore—

"Damn, are you sure?"

Cry when she don't get her way—

"Damn, are you four?"

Stole her heart, now I'm tryna slide in the getaway

The game chose me, baby, I didn't get a say

I done watched a lot of rappers rise and disintegrate

Paid attention to the styles

I'm finna demonstrate: This is how you do it, man

World's getting too insane, turned a check into a chain

Tuggin' on her NuvaRing, we are not the same

If you fuckin' with my crew, then you got the right brothers, like we flew a plane

Don't ask me about it, let your boo explain

[Verse 6: REASON]

Look, say she don't know REAS', that shit too insane

Old school, put my shorty on Biggie like Pootie Tang, do your thing

Cap in all the raps, that shit won't stop

Rest in peace, Breonna Taylor; her killers, they should've knocked

Wait, Jack, I'm in some pussy, I was knee-deeper than Funkadelics

I am legend, that explain all the will that a nigga carry

Talking real big wheel like Ferris

Top, that's it from the greatest

Newborn babies, that shit newly apparent, REASON

[Outro: Isaiah Rashad, REASON, JID]

I take my licks in the storm, bitch, do me raw

Yeah, still fuckin' 'til six in the morn'

Son, how I flooded out the wrist to reward

Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore

Yeah, I fuck my bitch when I'm bored, rich from the poor

Drunk, high, stumblin' off the shits and record

Video vixen, she copped her tits from the store, said

("Damn, they don't make 'em like this a—")