[Verse 1: Copywrite]
Copywrite the white James Brown, write flames down
I rain on these lightweight clowns with lightweight sounds, you lie
Face-down while I take crowns and violate towns
And fuck who opened up (Fuck ‘em, man), it’s my place now (Fuck out of here)
But you barking loudly for a mutt that’s part chihuahua
Still shine when I’m high, partly sunny, partly cloudy
You talking mouthy? And I’ma duct tape you fuck faces
Ain’t no way to straighten how you bit, fuck braces
Gauges end up blazing out you cliques, duck quickly
I’m like a broken condom, none of y’all can fuck with me
I hope you’re cool resolving that, revolving gat aimed at your frame
The palms will clap, the High Exaulted’s back
Fresh off tour (Yeah), left a mess on whores. Promoters
That owe us dough sweat bullets through Teflon pours
And I match ‘em, two for every one they sweat out, spread
The lead out with highbeams, I’m like Visine, I get the red out

[Verse 2: Yak Ballz]
We at
The club, and I’m out of my forehead, eyes so
Bloodshed, everything’s painted all red
And we all wet. Shit, my crew all bent enough
To send shots straight through the doors of a Benz limo
So obliterated, they ID ‘em by the passenger’s dental
Pissy drunk and I’m tipping like dominoes
We live it up, plush spots, we get high in ‘em, and when I’m
In the cut, sipping my cup in fly denim, haters
Know we got fly with ‘em, bitches wanna rock with ‘em
After the bar, leaving with so-called rap stars
Smoking too many blunts, they making me laugh hard
We rap gods, Weathermen, it’s time to blast off
[Verse 3: Tame One]
Tame been All City since Tootie had small titties
Come to the malls with me, I be spending all fifties
High again with enough smoke to choke a fireman
Last seen with 76 Phillies like Iverson
High and bent in my environment, where I invent
Lyrical violence that’ll separate the mice from the men
I Timberland swamp-stomp competition that’s listening
Twice as interesting ‘cause I’m different, the difference
In being the champ or going the distance, Tame One
The Cheech Wizard, tragic magic, mental dyslexic
Be rapping backwards when I practice, mentally hit, bent
Like I’m taking a shit, drink a whole Hennessy fifth
And won’t trip, see me in the corner rolling
Chocolate chips in little Bricks, that’s the Izabella
Twenty-twen-twen-twen like Chris Tucker
This mahfucker, Tame is that n***a

[Verse 4: Cage]
You chilling at a killer’s dinner party, evening’s will pull us
Put a blade in you, it’s just retrieving the bullets
Death’s still touring, stars thinking of warring
You’re weaker each release like Lucas wrote they shit for ‘em
I’m just trying to get my money to build
But I can’t feel with my hands, so Cage is coming to kill
And fix these numbers and spend some of this HBO check
On embalming like Six Feet Under
Left side of the stadium get torn the fuck down
Give these indie rap squatters more reason to suck now
Shit, piss and corruption so fuck the love
While I roll with my cult following and drain some blood
[Verse 5: Breeze Brewin]
Yo, Breezily I approach, I spy on enemies
Heatedly like I’m coach Bobby Knight, y’all Brian Dennehy’s
I be tight seeing these bad actors, see your asscrack
You’re steamed, drunk at some gay bar off fag daiquiris
Life’s trife, Al-Qaeda’s wild ride, I hear
“Death to the infidels,” I fear for my wife’s life
Then my thoughts switched, had some talks
With my Weathermen brethren, and now I pimps that star bitch
Perform, get your doe, you show your ass, nice, good tits
Hold it down for the pound, cover heist footprints
We weather whatever, men. Y’all whether or not to continue living
Given you know you never have sex with women
The crew’s legit, could never be sloppy
I see Copy, Copy, Copy, leaving brothers on some Puba shit
Just avoid Cage, Yak, Tame
Breezly Brewin swing harder than Sammy Sosa during ‘roid rage