[prod. Reference]

[Intro]

Yeah, now I already thought I told you this dog

But whatever though... yea...

[Verse 1]

One two, one two, same with the bars as punches

Eliminate one pair, and they're one and the same

They both dauntless, kill staunch rappers without gauntlets

And they both crunch a rapper until his rhymes in crutches

Fine wine and Intertwine with my newest rhymes

I'm vilified, by villains five and they know who they are

I'm got spill nothing on that but...

Yeah, fuck the rap shit if the rhymes is what's solidified

Menace and I'm still a scribe, I'm still ascribed to the cowards that I despise

My fires have burnt my neighbours' eyes

And the wild flames that caught arise burnt my neighbours dry

I was never subtle dog, I've found it doesn't pay to be sly

Fiending for a hitman's salary and a killer's high

Bass muddy as pigswill and I made it in a pigsty

I'd be more ashamed of the whole damn truth than of a quick lie

That's just how it is and I dare you to ask me why

[Hook]

Uh, let's face the facts true

Big money money yeah you got blank stacks too

Making paper, well that's something I've never been that good at

Let me do the honours cuz that's something that I must have

Them blank stacks dog

Light a match dog, burn the cash like pro'lemz

Them blank stacks dog

Burn baby burn

[Verse 2]

And of this rap I partake

The R.E.F is like R.A, I ain't phased by your clips with A.K's

Cuz I'm unloading these clips through my K.r.K's, urgh

I picture a kid with gun-clips in his scripture

And his doctrine, I'm willed to turn graves into fixtures, ugh

I got this doctorate, I wasn't impressed so I doctored it

And re-concocted it so that I was the dominant

I ain't a rapper's son, I'm fresh with this treble clef dude

Looked my uncle in the eye, told him he had a dope nephew

It's true I can't stand men from different quadrants

See, we grow our own materials, mixed in our own cauldron

Give your music to your boys, they take it wishin' good health

But like grandma's knit Christmas presents, it's left on the shelf

I saw these rappers, rapped 'em, if you're looking for a comparison

It's like guitar skills between Lil' Wayne and Eric Clapton

Like rusted iron vs tungsten, and Tundran Alaskan

Got tonnes done of rapping, I'm at the point where I care

Where I'm saying even though I still just want to rap

It's twisting my arm, more than a U.S foreign policy

So I'll just make my own lane, hope that no-one follows me bruh

Fuck your prophecies, I'm a prophet for prodigies

And I couldn't give a fuck about the profit, so top it bruh

[Hook]

Uh, let's face the facts true

Big money money yeah you got blank stacks too

Making paper, well that's something I've never been that good at

Let me do the honours cuz that's something that I must have

Them blank stacks dog

Light a match dog, burn the cash like pro'lemz

Them blank stacks dog

Burn baby burn

[Verse 3]

Well these pages isn't blank

Stunning, these other fuckers is running

When I'm low key running shit, in the R.E.F establishment

Cunning but fueled by the honour to be on a beat

Which means I'll beat up a beef-head, who is beefin' with me

Dog, look you're one-inch, while I'm giving frontage

The fucks I give are functioning and from it's funk I be fossiling

And philosophizing, while you're fluctuating

As several different levels of flummoxed, while I haven't got the funds

I'm a lost one that found he was one of the boss tongues

Blow!