[Produced by !llmind]

[Intro: Crooked I]

I don’t even know what to say man

I'ma... I'ma go Miles Davis

A lot of improvisation man

I'ma let the music talk to me

I'ma talk back though

Let my words bounce off the bassline

Bounce back to my thought process

I mean I'm just

I'm just tryna uhh, keep up with Illmind right now

Yo Just man, you can delete all this shit

I'm just warmin' it up for my brothers right now

My three brothers

House Gang for life

[Verse 1: Crooked I]

If you can't stand the heat, better creep out the kitchen

This music so therapeutic, it could be our religion

If I am my own problem, then I am my own solution

We buildin' a glass house so you can see how we livin'

Hold up, turn the beat down and listen

I was predicted to be convicted; catching them beatdowns in prison

By prison guards cause fuck; authority figures minority niggas be livin' hard

Tell me how to see out your vision, when you limit ours

You only want us seeing the struggle but I got

(Bands in my duffel, bands, bands in my duffel)

Yeah, you can ask the slaughters, I don't mess wit' you rappers

Matter of fact, our third album is a message to rappers

My nigga we let you breathe

Now all of them accolades from ratchet bitches and faggots in this rapping business is over

It's back to the business of gangsta rapping that I'm mixin' with this backpack, spittin'

With a Rat Pack clique of niggas, you best believe

You pussy period, I bet you bleed

A fake nigga that listen to snakes nigga, I bet you Eve

Meanwhile I'm on my Django with my field niggas

Twelve years a slave, this industry tryna' kill niggas

Even if they noose me, I die hangin' with some real niggas

And all my nephews are in my will like Uncle Phil, nigga

I'm really cocky, but that's on the low like Makaveli's intro

When it sounded like somebody said "Suge shot me"

[Verse 2: Joell Ortiz]

I shot the shit with the niggas that shot shit up

Welcome to my hood papi

Where every nights a movie, but never a good copy

I sat on granny couch, amped about what I'm rambling bout

When the amp blew out I made beats with my hands and mouth

The man of the house so early

Lil odd though with the curly

Blow out, running behind the girlys

My nigga Jigs nicknamed me Idoboy

I do miss him so durly

Just Blaze, I just blaze one up

Boy I'm headed up to mobile monday I hope you 45's ain't dirty

Don't need them bitches skipping

I know I'm skipping around but fuck it

Cuz I could still bust it with random thoughts

You gotta love it

Hey Crook you my brother

Royce you my brother

Joe you my brother

4 different fathers, 4 different mothers

But raised by the culture

You bet we were hanging the same poster

Staring at Lil Kim with the legs open

Rewinding the Nas verse, blasting some Hov

Dancing to Biggie, tripping off Canibus flow

Don't act like Cano wasn't a savage you know

But back then my squad, everyone rapping is pro

Yea Marshall Mathers my bro, hey Catfish it's a go

The magic of 2.0, Just gettin started

I'm confused because this healthy mindset made our album retarded

I'm just playing with words, yea they pay me for that

The stages of rap, ask these promoters these places is packed

Just killing time till that album drop

Slow it down, I dissed you

I said It's killing time when that album drop