[ Featuring Maxwell Parker, Kaz Drumatic, Curshawn Terrell, Cracka Lack, Brian Scott, Nicholas Bozzo ]
So many people gotta show off,
So much of what they say i gotta blow off,
Its hard to find the truth between the lies that they throw out
Realities challenging we are so lost,
Thats why I'm locked in the booth with some chronic,
Spittin my phonics at a pace that super sonic,
With the blade of a katana, spilling all the thoughts i ponder,
On the, counter theres no pausing, till i go round the world like vonage, and own a summer cottage
And theres no way they can stop it,
I'm flying like a rocket,
Sorry for the confusion that was an illusion to ur optics,
I got ebola bars to blow ur mind and leave ya nautious
Breaking the blood brain barrier, better be cautious
So im blind to the bull shit, i got dreams to go get,
Talking business with buffalo stille at 3 in the morning,
Blowing on a bowl of some a that michigan Chronic,
That big k dog always seems to keep on him
Blowing on a bowl of some of that michigan medicine,
Its nappy for life, I'm just missing some melanin,
HOOK
Were rising up, refuse to lose,
I feel the love, while sing the blues,
I catch a buzz, and get in the booth,
Then i spread some love while i spit the truth
Man my wife is from Detroit, My family moved to flint,
I still live in Kentucky, but I got to represent
Familiar with the glove, just like a catcher with his mitt,
Michigan showed me some shit you couldn't capture with no pick,
Y'all call that love we call that southern hospitality you get,
When you fall off in the club they holla Nappy's in that bitch,
Stilley didn't rip on any classic major hit,
Still he earned his hip hop quotable, he actually can spit
Like I got a mouthful of that dip, but aint no tobacco in my lip
Expect the best, so I crack that whip, as if I gotta lasso on my hip,
Smash out in my whip, feel like I'm the captain of my ship
Working hard, I do my job, and I ain't slacking on my shift,
Ain't no shackles on my wrist, no lashes by no switch,
Only masters that I deal with is the masters on my mix,
And the masters that we own from Watermelon Chicken Grits
To the 40 Acre project, my how fast people for get
HOOK
Were rising up, refuse to lose,
I feel the love, while sing the blues,
I catch a buzz, and get in the booth,
Then i spread some love while i spit the truth