[Verse 1: Yung Kodz]
God needs love, driven loose from a hurt place
Slow recovery, but I still make it to first place
Can you skip the bullshit and get out of the way?
The shit you write since my shit back in the 3rd grade
Mind of a devil, heart of a priest
The rap game is heating up, but we're 'bout ready to feast
Y'all some chicks, but I'm about to bring a treat
So much confidence, you can't take it there, feet
Revision of a false hope that's become untrue
Coming on the scene like a fire, spitting like the flu
There is nothing else for these rappers to do
Lyrics, let's see, they take the game without a fucking clue
Whatever I got on my mind will be on the scene
Hop and spit the aftermath, but you know we stay clean
In the booth, correcting this complicated dream
Hip-Hop is a fucking party that I'll never ever leave

[Verse 2: PiMPYZ]
Fucking yo' bitch, that's what I do
Talkin' that shit, n***a the truth
Beam mothafuckin' buck, that's what I do
Come through with the mothafuckin' crew
Shoot up yo' home, spray for yo' dome
N***a on the internet, call me Google Chrome
Oh shit, spittin' hot lyrics
Got yo' bitch, sitting on my dickins
N***a you ain't shit, chop your head off like a chicken
Then a n***a come through and I fuckin' yo bitchit
Pull out that TEC, shoot at your neck
Go meet yo' mama, gimme some sex
N***a come through old times T-Rex
And I get yo bitch and she call me the next
Greatest, fuckin' rapper
N***a I'ma trapper, n***a I'ma rapper
N***as like some candy, then I gotta take off the fuckin' wrapper
N***a you suck, fuck your bitch in her mothafuckin' butt
N***a come through and I'm in the fuckin' cut
With the mothafuckin' nine, sitting at your neck
Talk all that shit, n***a, you next
(What the fuck!)
[Verse 3: El Gloom]
He really say, "Evil we crave"
Rolling down that lane
For the fog, that Range Rover
And these bitches still wanna tango
Lay low, stay, hoe
But you bitches don't wanna obey, though
.44 up to yo' head, slit your throat, and you dead
Justin reawaken, now my soul rely on Satan
Don't get me mis-mistaken, I'll never be forsaken
As long as I'm baking these rappers' careers
I don't give a fuck if you ever tear
Your rap career is to a near

[Verse 4: Tay-K]
Tay-K out the cut, pretty eager for action
Wack you with the paden, now you look like a catfish
The rims on my NASCAR, sparking the classics
I need a new strap, let me hit my blacksmith
Coughin' on this Tropic, but she say it's attractive
Trap boy livin', man, this shit is fantastic
This shit is underground, but it's not red faction
I'm really not with the actin'

[Outro: PiMPYZ & Eazy]
Yeah, shout-out to them Daytona n***as
My n***a Jose, my n***a Yung Kody, my n***a El Gloom
My n***a Easy B Doe, Carlos, Caleb, Top Man
You know that young Mike Jones Junior
You already know PiMPYZ, n***a
We coming up n***a, yuh! (Applause!)
SKRT SKRT SKRT SKRT! (Hell nah)
Gang (Alright, we done with this, man?)