Released: October 26, 2010

Featuring: Pusha T Styles P

Songwriter: David Boom Pinks Pusha T Styles P Joe Budden

Producer: David Boom Pinks

[Intro: Styles P (Joe Budden)]
"Space Ghost" (uh)
D-Block (uh)
Niggas know what it is (ta ha)
They don't, they fucked up
Right (talk to 'em)

[Verse 1: Styles P]
Dark forces, get on the level
'Cause you might see an iced out cross on the Devil
Illuminati and Masons, what are we facin'? (what are we facin'?)
See you at the crossroad, death's vacation ('cation)
Shit is like "Fright Night", get you a nightlight
Two blunts, Zeitgeist (Zeitgeist) but mami is Christ like
Now niggas wanna look like women
Tight pants, costume jewels, I guess they CEO might bend 'em
God bless 'Pac but they ain't got Thug Life in 'em (God bless)
God bless Big but they don't know the Everyday Struggle (God bless)
I keep it thorough, everywhere that I bubble and you bubble gum (you bubble gum)
Chew you up, spit you out nigga, 'cause I'm troublesome (troublesome)
And if they lyrical, then what the fuck am I? (tell me)
The maker of miracles, every couple of lines (lines)
Parallel lines in my soul, in my mind (parallel)
Then make the jewels unfold every time that I rhyme (uh)
You's a speck and I'm spectacular (spectacular)
Audio fuckin' up your cardiovascular (what up?)
Lyrically spit shit, flip like a spatula (flip)
Married to the game and you just a bachelor (bachelor)
SP and the Mouse in this bitch (what up?)
And I want it quiet as a mouse in this bitch (ssssh)
Burn you and your car and your houses and shit (poof)
Don't you ever say you hard if I ain't vouch for the shit (nigga)

[Verse 2: Pusha T]
It's like a never endin' story, I'm here for my glory
The engine's too loud, these haters can't ignore me
Feelin' like a legend, anyone that came before me
Drug dealer, posin' all this motherfuckin' jewelry (motherfuckin' jewelry)
Came from the crack house, back room, black out
Smoke hit they lungs, make 'em UFC Tapout
No plan B, it was nothin' else to map out
So we throw stones while we livin' in this glass house (glass house)
It's been a minute so they ask where the fire went
My kitchen clean but I still got the pilot lit
Made a fortune out of fumes, my MacGyver shit
Reality TV before Survivor, bitch
Yuuuck, put our lives on display
Who's thinkin' about tomorrow? We ain't promised today
This rap game fickle, we ain't promised to play
The last of the greats, pay homage to me

[Verse 3: Joe Budden]
Yo, if my past had an encore, it'd be like an onslaught
A lot of niggas died, there's too many to mourn for
I'm thinkin' about my youth, us as little kids, am I wrong for
Havin' thoughts Bishop Eddie would Long for?
I got decade old wounds, that'll still bleedin'
That chapter of my life's closed, that y'all still readin' (still readin')
Straight face on, pretendin' to feel decent
Casket shoppin' for a loved one that's still breathin' (still breathin')
Uh, swear that shit got in the way of summer
Avoidin' calendars, since all your days were numbered
Laid out in the bed, could barely sit up (uh)
Those were your last breathes, I was mistakin' for hiccups (oh!)
Y'all don't get the picture (uh), when your medicine is liquor (uh)
I'm talkin' phone ringin', bein' too afraid to pick up
I know you in a better place and that joy is felt
I learned when death calls, it won't leave a voicemail (nah)
You would be proud, I'm due to be caked up
Wanna make your dreams come true? Gotta wake up (gotta wake up)
You groupie niggas, I don't see how you deal with it
Broke and starvin' but clingin' to your meal ticket (meal ticket)
Broke hustlers that bake that trash
Back and forth to they vacant stash
Still in all I know a few that'll make that cash
Quick flip (uh), even Rex Ryan ain't lose the weight that fast
Y'all should treat me like royalty (royalty)
Last of a dyin' breed, that puts money and power behind loyalty (word)
Careful, that bitch shit'll rub off
Me, I'd rather die with my balls, than have to live with 'em cut off (cut off)
Long winded, be patient enough to hear 'em
I'll give you the jewels, if you brave enough to wear 'em
But know before you swallow it up
Food for thought's only as important as what'll follow it up, Joey
(Joey...)

[Outro: Joe Budden]
Ta ha
Dessert for thought for y'all
Uh, go 'head, live with that
Yeah

Joe Budden

Joe Budden is from Jersey City, New Jersey. He was born in Spanish Harlem but lived in Queens until he was 12 and from there moved to Jersey City, New Jersey. Budden is one of five boys (one older brother and three younger brothers – two are twin brothers). Budden heard music in his home (his father is a multi-instrumentalist) and on the streets while he grew up.

He is also one quarter of Slaughterhouse, alongside fellow rappers Royce da 5’9”, Joell Ortiz, and Crooked I.