Released: March 13, 2007

Featuring: Royce da 5'9" Guilty Simpson

Songwriter: Black Milk Guilty Simpson Royce da 5'9"

Producer: Black Milk

[Verse 1: Black Milk]
Yeah, uh, just when you thought it was safe
We came back to brawl and feel like you fought with an ape
But walked in his cage and can't get out
No way out, lost, feel like you walked in a maze
And yes, trying to walk a mile in my shoes is a waste
You couldn't even walk ten paces
Yes, I already ran that race and
Already came in first place and!
Black Milk, I'm like a horror film in the makin'
Spit that Freddy verse Jason
Believe when I say niggas move when I weigh like all comin' police car chases
Move, it gets that ugly
The bitch want money, but she can't get that from me
No, sound the alarm on em'
Still gunnin'
Sound like the fire men coming

[Refrain: Black Milk]
Hands to the sky
Get them high
Detroit make the world go round'

[Verse 2: Royce Da 5'9"]
Nothing else left to do but be the best with it
All I need is respect with it
It ain't gon' stop
I put your flow in a bullet
Put it in my gun
And pull it like I'm playing roulette with it
It ain't gon' pop
I put your brain in the blender for trying to figure out
How to enter the train of my thoughts
You ain't a contender
Why you still starvin'
I can put my hand on my dick like I'm still a star
As long as I feel large
I'm the real raw
Niggas can't kill God
Most incorrect politically next to Bill Maher
Arrest me, try to correct me with bars
Me, Black and Guilty next years' tsars
I'm bout' to put you fools on a diet
Put your food in a ring
And then I'm crownin' the biggest loser the king
Nigga try to try me then I'll prolly try to body these mobs
Then after that you gotta sound the alarm

[Refrain: Black Milk]
Hands to the sky
Get them high
Motherfucker let's go

[Verse 3: Guilty Simpson]
Study the game and hit the ground runnin'
So when I start
Show you rap cats how to play that part
But we ain't actin'
They play him but he ain't crackin'
The same ol' same
With a verse so soft I sleep on it, the night off
When a nigga tries to speak on it, come again
Be in the streets, man
Fuck a benz
I got a three digit for the number man
Cause when the scratch run out
Yeah, Tre five-seven watch stack come out
I got a keen ear, boy, latch your mouth
Or repeat what you said while I'm at your house
But we don't knock
Kick through both locks then inflict bodily harm
Gun in my palm
You cats ain't even lukewarm
Man, sound the alarm

[Refrain: Black Milk]
Hands to the sky
Get them high

Black Milk

Curtis “Black Milk” Cross, born August 14, 1983 is a MC and Producer from Detroit, MI. He is considered one of the gems of the underground with his storytelling flows and deep and rich beats.

His 2013 album, No Poison No Paradise garnered significant critical acclaim.