[Hook: Doseone]

Prey, tell me is or ain’t that face paint

Do you raw or do you race-trace

If you take to take to take-make

That there’s grave

And snake’s your namesake

Tell me is or ain’t that face paint

Do you raw or do you race-trace

If you take to take to take-make

That there’s grave

And snake’s your namesake

Tell me is or ain’t that face paint

Do you raw or do you race-trace

If you take to take to take-make

That there’s grave

And snake’s your namesake

[Verse 1: Doseone]

There’s no cops creeping in the jungle of bite

And all things blues thief in the night

Is you is or is you ain’t bright light

Can you be trusted to shame or honor load prose

Or do you need to get named- no

And thrown back to the cold

That came before it

Unamieded tourists in their painted forests

Who take to take to whore it

And poorly absorb this

Here’s a thiefing man’s game

A sample-time thang, a Sisyphus deal, zeal for meals and heart fangs

Not the swallow of hollow quotes from cutthroats on strings

The rest is (So you bright or kill light when you bang?)

So keep your teeth off our mark, we forget to eat for our art

Rawheat to the part, no sheath on the heart

Sleeping like sharks, despiteing the dark

Where it did start and in the end is a spark

In the clear and severe ear of a peer spearing its fears

A 100 years from here, chilled and in tears to hear

His sheer and near fall is steered

Do you kill just to well the ill

Empty out and refill the pill

With your will

Or you bitch to bill

Fuck a bill, burn a bill, hell on earth a bill

Curse a bill, cut a bill, hurt a bill

Gut a bill…

What a bill can’t pill

Is the wellillstillspillkill

This goes To those overfroze hearted hoes

With a golden voice

And bum nothing to their words but poor choice

This goes hoist like skull and crossed bones

Before your Hollywood homes

Grown in the greased slick sick of your least

A most piteous perk of the mark of the beast

That eats good men out into a star on song streets

This ain’t beef its called truth in the air

Proof to the square

The present is rare

At best and the rest

Is set against the breadth of

All fruit to ever fall from your chest…

And the might of the seeds in come time they had left

In other words, you guilty of killing it or theft

[Hook: Doseone]

Te-tell me is or ain’t that face paint

Do you raw or do you race-trace

If you take to take to take-make

That there’s grave

And snake’s your namesake

Te-tell me is or ain’t that face paint

Do you raw or do you race-trace

If you take to take to take-make

That there’s grave

And snake’s your namesake

[Bridge: Jel]

Is you all finished with bitch after your minutes of rich

Then lift your jaw off my gift off-off-off this-this

[Verse 3 Jel & Doseone]

Milk you must wean…

Not every king appears headless to himself in a dream

You steel what I mean

Your clock is unclean

While I still want for what it is that I fiend

Something like rent and heat’ll do in the nowtime

Your beats remind me of flatlines

And things without spines

You and your kind can get the blackhole and a no sign (Now come!)

And speak it thief to the crumb

Is there no deadend to the lung you suck luck from

Its wind gone like a trustfund or dustdone

Run null, skull, and void

A puff of hype and his toy

Diffuse abusing my likes

But that’s the way the real gets spliced, its aight

Just another case a gimmie them drums

Cause you ain’t jackin em right…

It’s the never a droplet of debt regreters

The clever and godless truth proof in the live setters

The sleep walk deaders

The better

The haters of hyped & escalator getters

We’re the ones the stairs ain’t stopping

Empty stomach drum chopping

Not from Compton, DI box oxen

IRS mocking, ant rocking

Dent in the rent remix hocking…

Relationshipless, overriskeded, prodigal

Borderline burden gifted, and listless

Muggers of one drug, its this

Stubborn addicted-to-done thug

Git with

The manner in which we swing with our thorough

No strings on what we’re owed

We do it for dirt, hope

And a st-stutter of checks little…

Ditto, the manner in which we smash with our honest

Don’t ask where we got it

Intuit and crew guided

Us to the answer of art…

And the rest is the set stone, and two thrones of our

Drum skin’s stole and poem bones of our mark

[Hook: Doseone]

Tell me is or ain’t that face paint

Do you raw or do you race-trace

If you take to take to take-make

That there’s grave

And snake’s your namesake

Tell me is or ain’t that face paint

Do you raw or do you race-trace

If you take to take to take-make

That there’s grave

And snake’s your namesake

[Outro: D-Styles]

*Scratching solo*