[Qualm Verse 1:]

One verse shot should settle the score

You mad because my whack and my rap is better than yours

See a light from a different angle

You see a bitch is going to be a bitch you can't turn a pigeon to an angel

But god is at least is going to snap

But you don't put in work with brand new shirts and jeans for machine packs

And all of us is trying to eat

If you are trying better about cheddar you better leave a message behind the beat

None of you many should thou contest

I betcha were thinking a few hot singles album success

I have a million ways to kill a verse

And it's Andromeda's deep, fuck beef I have a million ways to build a hearse

Fuck you know better than Qualm

Say if you want beef put it on the streets you wanted to get on a song

My advice to you is to get in the crowd

So when I spit sixteen duck in the middle and crouch

[Knowledge Hook: X2]

Yo it's game time there's no competition

So we kick it but they hate mine

Compositions for the limit

Because they hate to fly

There just some motherfucking pigeons

So I aim high until they met the fucking limit

[Lord Lhus Verse 2:]

We back at it with a fist part too

The hit squad crew whose walking the whom

All I hear is garbage record label the side of the army

Who started the motherfucker the place within the margin

Now that's my target hip-hop repping the snowgoons

The undergrounds you know don't tell me there ain't no room

To make loot to make room or to move back

Before we come out the back, bats brewing cats

Swing bat ta homie we take it in our head

You heard me what I said, best believe me breaking bread

Gimme that, don't be hard don't force that

All my fans reppin' hard for me in Joylands

Switch too, we got Goons around the world ready to bust, change the spits crew

Homie they don't even rat me out and bust ya, you want a broom

I don't care if I offend you

I can say what I want and do what I do

[Knowledge Hook 2: X2]

Yo It's game time there's no competition

So we kick it but they hat mine

Compositions for the limit

Because they hate to fly

There just some motherfucking pigeons

So I aim high until they met the motherfucking limit

[Knowledge Verse 3:]

There's a whole lot coming from outside you can't run from it

You better confront it before things are coming

Hit you in the head with my stomache before you bleed fuck it

You're about to doubt about the streets cousin

All of a sudden, I got a show blow of bastards hell of a hand basket

While I focus on the madness for disaster

While I handle the rampage close your casket

Leave your store of brews and bastings

Forty out sweep guzzlin' just drying your pain

When we ain't got nothing to lose man you could lose your brain

You said it was sanely insane

I guess the grey blood was all in your veins

So the competition was so lame

To throw bread it ain't the same

Without a hockey mask in a cage

Friday the 13TH it all been played

Blood smells like bloodline when you called my name