Released: October 7, 2014
Featuring: Crooked I Fashawn Murs
Producer: !llmind
[Verse 1: Boaz]
I used to dream of that V dozen six double zero
The quickest recipe to get it was to cut a kilo
Young boss nigga, respecting my OG though
Buying lotto tickets and chips at the casino
That’s what we call finessing, salad with the dressing
Hard headed, bout that cheddar nigga, I ain’t learned my lesson
Blaze tire, burn fire, while I fire off the Wesson
Burn fire, stay higher nigga, I ain’t ever stressing
Counting every blessing, counting every second
What’s on my mind is money, it’s time to cash the check in
One zero zero comma one zero zero comma
Keep on running up the numbers
Fuck these haters and they mamas
These lil niggas still wearing their pajamas
With the feet in em, ain’t no street in em
I already kill em with the blow, time to kill em with the flow
Illmind let the beat hit em
[Hook: Boaz]
We rocking on the mic like this
Like this the place that I belong
Everytime I rock a mic like this
I rock it all night long
Yo, don't I been whipping in the Benz like this
Like it's the whip that I belong
Everytime I drive a whip like this
I take a bad bitch home
[Verse 2: Crooked I]
Shady 2.0, we them monsters
I'm either with the slaughters or walking with ten copsters
When I'm in Detroit, that shit is kinda ironic
I'm eating Alfredo with Marshall discussing imposters
You niggas counterfeit twenties, live your life like a dyke
Cause when it come to beef, nah, you ain’t down to get busy
I let off a chopper round, spin your block around
Your whole town’ll get dizzy huh?
Like a merry go round, if we ain’t rocking turn your stereo down
I still grind on my rap shit, the gun is still mine when the strap kick
It sound like an Illmind black kick, clap shit
Like, it’s Crooked I
Same west coaster, who got ya?
BM in my DM, meeting at 9 PM
She gonna be on her knees son, like Liam
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Murs]
I'm the shadow that overshadows the darkness
Light nights in my adam's apple to spark this
Mass murder with words, what do they call this?
The way I carve my name in your carcass call me an artist
Traded in the Benz for a Prius
Body white as coke, tires blacker than Jesus
Sleeping with the same chick for five years
I chase dreams not pussy like my peers
That's that for better or worse shit
Niggas die talking that "better than Murs" shit
They need to quit submit or get they arm broke
Bicep under the neck, I seen them all choke
Bear your blood on the web, got a little buzz
Flashing heat, but the streets never heard of cuz
You buying views, I'm buying rooms with a view
And a first class cabin overlooking the blue
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Fashawn]
Now my bars is felt, cards get dealt
I let off until that cartridge melt, Fashawn
Pipe giver, wife digger, Kershaw, white pigeon
Type killer, MJ mixed with Iron Mike's temper
Mic ripper, apparatus unknown
Paragraphs out the pad I compose, nigga
I'm bad to the bone gristle
Sending rappers to the 'spital
When I hear an instrumental
I'm very detrimental
Serve niggas, late night just like Kimmel
Black guns, black suits, white limo
Four bitches hanging out the left and right window
While I sit and pour champagne, light indo
Luck, jewelry, us, looking like I stuck a jeweler up
Told [?] keep the ruler tucked
I ripped the crowd, left a cloud on the stage
And twenty some thousand astounded, amazed
[Hook]
I used to dream of that V dozen six double zero
The quickest recipe to get it was to cut a kilo
Young boss nigga, respecting my OG though
Buying lotto tickets and chips at the casino
That’s what we call finessing, salad with the dressing
Hard headed, bout that cheddar nigga, I ain’t learned my lesson
Blaze tire, burn fire, while I fire off the Wesson
Burn fire, stay higher nigga, I ain’t ever stressing
Counting every blessing, counting every second
What’s on my mind is money, it’s time to cash the check in
One zero zero comma one zero zero comma
Keep on running up the numbers
Fuck these haters and they mamas
These lil niggas still wearing their pajamas
With the feet in em, ain’t no street in em
I already kill em with the blow, time to kill em with the flow
Illmind let the beat hit em
[Hook: Boaz]
We rocking on the mic like this
Like this the place that I belong
Everytime I rock a mic like this
I rock it all night long
Yo, don't I been whipping in the Benz like this
Like it's the whip that I belong
Everytime I drive a whip like this
I take a bad bitch home
[Verse 2: Crooked I]
Shady 2.0, we them monsters
I'm either with the slaughters or walking with ten copsters
When I'm in Detroit, that shit is kinda ironic
I'm eating Alfredo with Marshall discussing imposters
You niggas counterfeit twenties, live your life like a dyke
Cause when it come to beef, nah, you ain’t down to get busy
I let off a chopper round, spin your block around
Your whole town’ll get dizzy huh?
Like a merry go round, if we ain’t rocking turn your stereo down
I still grind on my rap shit, the gun is still mine when the strap kick
It sound like an Illmind black kick, clap shit
Like, it’s Crooked I
Same west coaster, who got ya?
BM in my DM, meeting at 9 PM
She gonna be on her knees son, like Liam
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Murs]
I'm the shadow that overshadows the darkness
Light nights in my adam's apple to spark this
Mass murder with words, what do they call this?
The way I carve my name in your carcass call me an artist
Traded in the Benz for a Prius
Body white as coke, tires blacker than Jesus
Sleeping with the same chick for five years
I chase dreams not pussy like my peers
That's that for better or worse shit
Niggas die talking that "better than Murs" shit
They need to quit submit or get they arm broke
Bicep under the neck, I seen them all choke
Bear your blood on the web, got a little buzz
Flashing heat, but the streets never heard of cuz
You buying views, I'm buying rooms with a view
And a first class cabin overlooking the blue
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Fashawn]
Now my bars is felt, cards get dealt
I let off until that cartridge melt, Fashawn
Pipe giver, wife digger, Kershaw, white pigeon
Type killer, MJ mixed with Iron Mike's temper
Mic ripper, apparatus unknown
Paragraphs out the pad I compose, nigga
I'm bad to the bone gristle
Sending rappers to the 'spital
When I hear an instrumental
I'm very detrimental
Serve niggas, late night just like Kimmel
Black guns, black suits, white limo
Four bitches hanging out the left and right window
While I sit and pour champagne, light indo
Luck, jewelry, us, looking like I stuck a jeweler up
Told [?] keep the ruler tucked
I ripped the crowd, left a cloud on the stage
And twenty some thousand astounded, amazed
[Hook]