[Verse 1: Wrekonize]

Wrapped in XLR cables

Up from my whiskers, down to my fuckin' kicks

Wreck-O was echoed in Gordon Geckos, you suckin' dick

Nobody be askin' me for secrets, I ain't chuckin' tips

I'd rather be bumpin' hips on that ratchet with muffin tits

Tore up the limits from Britain visions would rock their lives

Inside a prison where giddy bitches don't jock the rhyme

Born with precision and rhythm spittin' could swat a fly

For them to just kick a single shillings from Spotify

Bye, Bye killers, on a high five business

Gonna ride by the sickest in your high ride to the hitlist

If we ain't spoke in ages then miss me with broken favors

You Miley Cyrus to majors, you twerkin' on swollen razors (run now)

Don't make me come to dinner, nail your tongue down

And have you plead your case to us in Strangeland at sundown

Be careful of the biz cause everything has got a price attached

Wake up with a horse head in your bed and next your life is snatched

[Verse 2: Bernz]

Tank full of petrol, bank full of pesos

Pool on my tour bus, bonus on a payroll

Feel like I be killin' it, famous on the internet

Really I'm just wingin' it, cookin' shit on my kitchenette

Life so good right now, I need to celebrate!

Bout to sell a stadium out and turn it into rave!

Look at how the industry norm has started lookin' Strange

All my brothers riding the storm while they just ride the wave

Caviar wishes, bitches for my bitches

Black shades and hoodies and spots and white linens

Feel like Sam Kinison, preachin' to the citizens

Screamin' at the saints, "You ain't ever gonna get rid of us!"

Guessin' I just cleaned my plate so now I'm gettin' cake

Speedin' down the interstate, yellin' "Get out the fuckin' way"

We plant flags in the ground because we here to stand

I bring my whole hood out and have my own parade

[Verse 3: Kutt Calhoun]

(Black Gold!)

I purposely wrote this verse just to murder, dismember, defecate

Disassemble the limbs of a nigga who try and separate

Artistry from nonfiction, I'm sent with a conviction

To sentence you pawns givin' opinions on my addiction

"There he goes, speakin' bout how he merk a beat"

"Smellin' himself, why else would he flaunt about it so verbally?"

Dance around me like I was a paraplegic

In a do-si-do competition, lookin' pissed like I never heard of feet

"Yadda, yadda", a whole lotta yappin' about my rappin'

When I'm the captain of crunchin' you niggas' milky dreams

I'm the comparison of Pac face staring in your face

Mock razor blades, Kutt leave you crispy clean

Don't ask Tech, ask me if it's questions

Guarantee that he tell you that I'm the best and I'm destined

To find a snake and a bat, helpin' Kansas City's progression

Hopin' I hurt the feelings of whoever second guessed it cause

Everybody talkin', I'mma make you niggas hear me

Mind control flow, now, listen till your ears bleed

[Verse 4: UBI]

Spit it sicker than these sycophants, keep your dick up in your pants

You were blunted on the block, me, I had some different plans

I'm trying to get to France, sniffing grams, hit a branch

Independent Powerhouse, vibin' out, wit' the fam

Waking up in different cities every night, hittin' grants

Stay prepared for this, I'm bearing witness to the sin of man

Stripper dance with cinnamon, clubbin' with my gentlemen

Drink away the night's events, nothing worth remembering

Squad'll run up in this bitch, mobbin' like some immigrants

Jack you for your paper stack, rob you of your innocence

Taping off the scene of crimes, swabbing for my fingerprints

Thought about my life, you thought the same and couldn't think of shit

Ha! This type of fire don't extinguish

Now write about some bigger shit, you striking out, swing and miss

Ring around the Rosie, homie, pocket full of pain

Keep a lock up on my lane and triple optic in my brain, look

Ringing

UBI: “Yeah, what up?"

N9ne: "Ubi?"

UBI: "What’s going on man?"

N9ne: "Hold on… Travis is calling me, hold up."

N9ne: "What up, Trav?"

Travis: "What up man, I’m outside right now."

N9ne: "Alright, here I come."

Travis: "Alright."

N9ne: "Peace. Ubi! You got the bitches number from… So and so?"

Ubi: "From what? What, which bitch?"

N9ne: "That redheaded bitch from… dadadadada."

Ubi: "Oh, yeah yeah yeah. Want me to text it to you?"

N9ne: "Yeah text it to me right now. Love."

Ubi: "Aight peace.”