[Verse 1: Wildcard]

Tell me irrelevant but I'm still in development

Swear to intelligent elements like it’s telekinesis

In development, hell embellish it; If music was a woman more fellas in it than LA county jail on the weekend

And I’m - bringin’ hell from the cellers and all irrelevant dwellers

The psychedelics I’m sellin’ the way, enveloping

They tellin’ me to mellow with this melancholy

Stop sellin’ thoughts from my melon when Helen Keller can see shit

I’mma rap venomous, no one can tap into this

Flow is just magnificent, no one can rap intricate

Soak ‘em in gas and I be throwin’ the match into ‘em

Going to track women or throwin’ they back into where (❓❓)

Rap venomous, Cobras attack enemies, blowin’ you back

When I’m in mode of attack, that I be coldest in fact

Thinkin’ that my soul is just half (❓❓)

And it’s as if gangster rap and Dead Poets a bad influence

What the fuck’s up, enough is enough

For these punk motherfuckers that suck

All the kids in this game got no one to look up

So when life’s a cold bitch like a hooker in Russia

They needin' a leader, they needin’ some meanin’

Don’t know if it’s me, but this fire I’m breathin’

I should be mainstream but for ten fuckin’ years I been trapped underground like them women in Cleveland

And all that I want is that one shot, Jack

What happens when they tell you that your one shot passed

Fuck that, I got a gun to get my one shot back

And an itchy trigger finger like my gun’s got crabs

Ain’t nobody gonna tell me how to run my raps

And your woman won’t admit that she loves my craft

Stephen King sit when your wife goes down (❓❓)

I make her eat my kids like Pennywise the clown

Come on

[Chorus: Dice] x2

I lose my mind cause

Don’t understand why (All I do is start rappin')

On the radio waves (?)

[Verse 2: KXNG Crooked]

Uh, let me get in there, it ain’t too much around I ain’t seen

People sellin’ they soul to gain green

Til you gotta cut ‘em off like something that’s gangreen

All for the love of the mainstream

But the mainstream don’t want you livin’ the same dream

Cause y’all not on the same team

For the fame I’ve seen rappers do strange things

Now they wanna get away clean

I been in the game since the nigga was eighteen

Spittin’ gasoline, spittin’ that acid mean (❓❓)

While they mother toughest gettin’ humped with no Vaseline, tryin’ to get their career jumpin’ like a trampoline

I just – work hard like I’m half machine

Double it up, serve the crack to fiends

Fuckin’ it up, always hustlin’ hard, Promethazine

Floor it, take the rap game like I’m trappin’ lean

And I’m – still that Underground King

Like I’m sittin’ on the throne next to Bun B

Once we, kick in the door, wavin’ the four-four

I want every lyricist in the country to come (E) (❓❓)

Try to stop us, we dump heat

On anyone, I give you twenty-one from the Jump Street

I got the cannon in the front seat

And for the bread, I turn any nigga into lunch meat

And yeah – When I come creep

I’mma give ‘em the blues, I’m hittin’ fools with the hidden rules

Of the beginning of my swimmin’ pool

That mean I'm only one deep

Cause murder beef never come cheap

Rappers thinkin’ that they fortunate

Suckin’ they own dick, contortionists

I can tell you was a cocksucker before you spit

Your momma should have put you on that abortion list, bitch

[Chorus: Dice] x2

I lose my mind cause

Don’t understand why (All I do is start rappin')

On the radio waves (?)

[Verse 3: Wildcard]

I freak women who freak with the Free Clinic (❓❓)

And I’m deep in it, repeat (pidders) but keef’s in it so (❓❓)

I seek vengeance on degenerate leech enemies

Who reach under my seat that I be diminishing

All these frauds and it's all devices (❓❓)

Out of alternate wall where the walls is mics (❓❓)

Assault the mob with the saw is what I call a knife (❓❓)

And women that don’t want to fuck is what I call a dyke

I’m kidding, but all this music I always write

Is like the voodoo that brought the Chucky doll to life

It’s not my fault that I absorbed to many chemicals as a kid

‘cause my father was Walter White

A Heisenberg, the wisest words that I can serve

Is fight the urge to write a verse against me

Cause I’m quite disturbed, you might concur

I’m nice at first but I’mma make you bite the curb

And stomp your shit (brap) drop soccer kicks

I’m not gonna stop choppin’ they cops and wigs (❓❓)

I’m not gonna stop rockin’ these foxy chicks

And let they twat box rock like the (hot though) bitch

(A moxy hits) was raised in a toxic pit

Got lost through pop’s garage full of phosphorus

And now I cock-block Brad Pitt, chop his wig

And charmin’ Angelina, and we’ll go without the kid

Her twat is licked like strawberries chocolate dipped

I bust in her raw, now she needs a walkin’ stick

A lock is picked and dropped like an octave

I call women dolls, but the law calls ‘em hostages

I’m off the grid, you’re not the shit

I’m not convinced at all these kids that I’m an optimist

I’m not exempt for being pissed off

You always wanna be positive, suck Magic Johnson’s dick

'Card