[Sample]
"Don't let a good thing die cause honey you know I never lied to you"

[Verse 1: Verbal Kent]
I make the dead regret living in the first place
My notebooks are like the view from space watching earthquakes
Watch as third base lines grow infinite
Put holes in the Earth, trick Mother Nature pimping it
Significantly rapping for the smart folks
Quick to take apart folks messing with my bar code
Below par with your average rap
You want beef, see me slicing off the animal fat
You pussies better get your annual pap
I'm abnormal with the pen, I push the pad to the max
U.H. is the clique we put lives down and show you our flaws
The type of honesty that hip hop's lost
You want glamour?
Ammo will have you bleeding in brawls
Go home and tell your wife it's just Pinot Noir
Yeah
Beat murderer, herder of sheep
Beat me? In your dreams, murder you in your sleep
Good things die

[Hook: Verbal Kent]
"Don't let a good thing die"
See any day could be your last quit living in the past kid
"Don't let a good thing die"
You want drama? Take a class get your PhD
"Don't let a good thing die"
See any moment I could pop out and leave you seeing asterisks
"Don't let a good thing die"
Yeah, cause when it comes to spitting raps I got my PhD
[Verse 2: Red Pill]
I drink a fifth of So' Co', think I'm Neo in the dojo
In a Neon dodging bullets seeing vehicles in slow mo
I'm exquisite with expletives
Spitter split it down the middle make it snap back from his fitted
This battle rap shit's played out
I'm cake walking
Don't give a fuck if they hating as long as they talking
And they all told me not to worry 'bout the comments
But I can't let a motherfucker blasphemy what God said
Like, "What that bitch say?
I'm Brother Ali if he ate sausage."
That's cute, don't quit your day job bitch
You ever made music and ate off it?
Then shut the fuck up before you get accosted
Cause I don't play talk shit, I break off limbs
So stay cautious
You witnessing a great on this
I always felt I was on track with living legends
Now I'm on a track with a Living Legend

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Murs]
I'm the dopest rapper outta southern California ever
Will a motherfucker make me eat my words? N***a never
Old school, new school, n***as need to die slow
Throwing up my hood high in a car that ride low
I trample samples like lungs to a [?]
Black out on n***as just to make that example but I
But I don't set those, I set trends though
When n***as thought that southern Cali was all funk and indo
I would write my name with a scribe inside of a bus window
Got a 9 to 5 to survive but I couldn't make the rent though
I was broke like Mr. Wendal, less paper than a Kindle
A Rasta Crip n***a with some 5% info
But-but, back to the beat
I rap for the street
For dudes that spray paint and write raps on concrete
I mastered defeat and I conquered all my fears
Get respect and spend my checks on some Dodgers memorabilia yeah
[Sample]