[Verse 1: Wax]
You watching this, I don’t need your co-sign
Regardless I’ll be chilling up in the hammock in no time
Hawaian coast line, my girl’s so fine
Bikini blow-drying up on the clothes line
No mind on the bovine
I puked up the blue pill we were forced to eat
I’m intolerant to the lactose in the corporate teet
I’m starting not to want to participate or compete
Weren’t we meant to live a life more complete
You know there’s people in Peru right now that are hunter gatherers
And many recent studies have discovered that they’re happier than we are
I’m to rapping what the Kardashians are to PR
Preface my name with a D-R, huh
But I made a plan to kick the game in its smelly rectum
And I don’t deviate like a healthy septum
I’m the truth and it hurts fools
Yeah go and type Wax in ya YouTube search tools
And buy some merch fools

[Verse 2: Rapsody]
Despite Sprite I thrist for mics
Like the look on racists' face if Kanye was Christ
It’s unbelievable, put fear in a poltergeist
He shaking twice, spit something that the Pope won’t like
I’m hoping Mike will understand my ultralight
Like a Sosa night run home to momma, damn she nice
Moonwalking, I’m just a talking and it’s really all light
10% dis or I can give you 90 tonight
Hurting for life, turn ‘em blue like I’m Walter White
Couldn’t face me with Skype, ‘til we cake like Tina and Ike
At your throat boy, fly like Elliott’s bike
Extraterrestrial flow, I’m so outta they sight
In the stars, where Kendrick threw bars, you was abroad
That G5 praying to God, I brought in the squad
And look how I bodied it like Playboy cards
Now they outta control like I said I'm the Queen of New York
It’s Rap
[Verse 3: Emis Killa]
Today we are going out baby it’s wow
I bring you to the moon, say hi to the world
You purr and say “miao” and I’ll bring you the Chanel
I take five stars from the sky and I put them in this hotel
Brr, I’m more than cold, I’m Sub-Zero
The sun kisses beautiful people and I burn like a vampire
Get undressed, enjoy the tropical sea
Which is the end of the world fuck 2012 off
If I would have fistfight and would take a lot
I’ll fall down but the on a red carpet
I’ve got so much swag that if we go around
People don’t know what I see the panorama or my shoes
I’ve got a watch that shines so much that
I don’t even see what fucking time it is
I treat you as q queen, because I’m a king
If I were Christ, I would wear the gold edition crown of thorns

[Verse 4: Rittz]
I’m getting paid, I finally made it
But haters don’t’ want to see me win
Well I hate the word swag
I hate people that say "my G" and "fam"
I hate "I gotta listen", I’m what Hip Hop is missing
After this one they’ll consider me competition
For the record just because you rapping like you mad
Don't mean you snapping, you just sounding raspy
In Atlanta we don’t ride to that
I bet he get body bagged
I bet he wouldn’t win a boxing match
I’m quick on my feet, I could dodge a jab
You run up, you gunna run out of gas
Cause I'm on top and I'm rhymin'
And choppin' like I was in Karate class
Ya body get sawed in half
You're faker than a knock-off Prada bag, off my launching pad
Dunkin’ on ‘em like I’m Dominique
Reppin’ Strange my chain is stuntin’ on 'em, bada bing!
Off the chain, I should probably party with Charlie Sheen
From the South but I wasn’t brought up like Paula Dean
And y’all are lame I’m ‘bout to X y’all out
I write whatever so fuck it if I let Nas down
Yeah, uh-yeah, get my album
[Verse 5: Jon Connor]
Yo the flow is timeless like a diamond
So when I’m rhyming, I’m mining
They said I was stuck in the rough
And you was just lucky to find it
You was foolish as Frankie Lymon
If you decided to try it or fight it
This is Andre the Giant vers' Daniel Bryan
Yes you want it hot, well allow me to change the climate
If the shoe was on the other foot you wouldn’t even know how to tie it
Somebody tell Rita Ora I sort got feelings for her
Got a crib out in Georgia we could raise a son and a daughter
Or we could go out to Florida where the weather is just as gorgeous
Baby I ain’t playing no games like I ran out of quarters
Hold up this is getting outta hand
‘Cause in a year I'mma be saying I’m not her man
Doin’ the U are not the father dance
‘Cause this is Michigan, proof feminine rappers be talking
Ain’t nobody genuine, I be killing it
They can’t touch him, everybody feeling it
But look I cleared out all y’all that got in the way
And y’all knew that I was ill, but now my doctor is Dre
Aftermath, AVM, Flint, Michigan