[Intro: Mick Jenkins]
Uh
I had to show n***as
Wasn't even tryna outgrow n***as
Sometimes, you just outgrow n***as

[Verse 1: Mick Jenkins]
One degree of separation these days
No hesitation, I just be a bit more patient these days
N***as think we racing, Grand Theft Auto, five-star chase, ain't shit wasted but time
Throwing tomatoes, can't catch up, n***a, I came from behind
N***a, I made up my mind, can't give a fuck 'bout a list
Which end we burning it at?
Loading up magazines, like, where the real journalists at?
Opinions quickly turn into trash, we flippin' the page
Plenty sage, money aged, like grapes
N***a, we getting fermented bags
Tell 'em I stay on my grind like I had permanent fronts
Same day kill multiple games, AAU tournament stunts
Woo, I'm turning me up
Been low-key as fuck
Whole Foods in the hood just started opening up
Copious smoke coming out, blunt as the dope rolling up
Sugar coats just a faux pas, know the truth won't give a fuck

[Chorus: Mick Jenkins]
I'ma have to show these n***as, I can't tell 'em shit
Too much talking and you soundin' like you sellin' shit
I'ma have to show these n***as, I'ma have to
I'ma have to show these n***as, I'ma have to
Ayy, ayy
You gon' have to show me, n***a, can't just tell me shit
Too much talking and you soundin' like you selling shit
You gon' have to show me, n***a, you gon' have to
You gon' have to (Freddie)
[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
You gon' have to
I'ma have to show these n***as, I can't tell 'em shit
Bought a semi-truck, fuck a Bentley, I was sick of mailin' shit, sellin' shit
Vice Lord, all well and shit
Every bitch a n***a fuck wanna have my baby, I should go celibate
N***a, fuck that 'cause I freak hoes by the bundle, undercover lover
Got a couple 'Cali bitches like my valley bitches and my Blood bitches in the Jungles
Yeah, a n***a rap but I ain't in the rap game 'cause this rap shit'll take you under
Put you in the dirt and then they throw the flowers on you when you're dead, layin' in the gutter
Gotta bring it back, baby
I be forgettin' some of y'all crack babies
Bitches do their best to try to tear me down, living legend status where I'm at, baby
Gangsta Island, put it on the map, baby
Fin ball, streets to the joint (Yeah)
Big Rabbit, I'll bounce on the bitch, city boys up a hundred points
N***a, what? Yeah
Breaking these hoes, one of these days one of these hoes gon' break your trust, yeah
Pimpin' ain't dead, but it turned into traffic, and real n***as gettin' locked up, yeah
Fronting my n***a a package, I know that my package might get fucked up, yeah
Helping these n***as, one of these days one of these n***as gon' break your trust, yeah
Fuck yeah

[Verse 3: Mick Jenkins]
Hmm
You gon' have to pardon my fascination with n***as' exaggerations
It's definitely no lack of imagination
And at the same time, so much to be desired
They spend so much to be desired
Need new noise
We them Hebrew boys
That walk straight in that fire, umpire says safe
Way that I'm slidin', he lyin', I can't be
Way that I write it, I gotta be playwright
Way that they folding, it gotta be laundry day, right?
It's always weird when actors get stage fright
I'm burnin' this sage like Kyrie on game night
You know n***as don't do what they say, right?
[Outro: Mick Jenkins]
You gon' have to show me, n***a
You gon' have to