[Verse 1: KXNG Crooked]

It kinda hurts you know
I want the earth to know
I'm going through something personal
But it could be worse you know
I could be up in that hearse
Going to meet the holy merciful
Instead I be up in the burbs
Bending the curbs in this convertible
I'm fighting a couple of cases
But none of them cases murder tho
The IRS hitting me up
But I could still go get me a burger, yo
People are out here jobless
Thank god I got the perfect flow
The flow is mean and nice
Oxymoron like a virgin ho (Ho!)
Yo I'm killing rappers all day
I'm one of the illest alive
Until I decide to chill and retire
I'm hitting them with that artillery fire
It'll be I against the world
Until I desire to chill and be quiet
Until then the industry giving me mind
Shit could get wicked but it'll fine
Nothing else that I could tell you
Find your lessons and your failures
Cause your failures will prepare you for you blessings
If I help you face your struggles
With the words I'm speaking
I'm really just helping myself
Cause we all one if you believing
[Verse 2: Hi-Rez]

Rez
Ha
People they telling me that I'm not shit
Now all of my verses are causing a breeze
Sipping a 40 with shorties that used to ignore me
But now they all up on my dick
Same kid with the same heart
In a better whip around fake stars
I walk around with a target that's all on my back
And these haters playing thots
Brothers are deep when I roll out
Blowing the smoke and it's so cal
It's only going back to my old style
Know everything that I do is so fly
Copping a week for my friends
Sippin on gin
Killing myself with these xans
I used to not care what I said
A stroke of my pen
Will leave all these rappers in fear
I'm a killer like tech and
Every lesson is a blessing
I do this shit for my bresh and
None of these rappers got a message
When I'm feeling low; when I'm feeling down
Not thinking twice take a shot at crown
I was rolling loud but I paid for it
Working since my mumma laid off
Rest
[Verse 3: Emilio Rojas]

Yeah
A lot of the homies are dead
A lot of my homies are hustling still
A cousin on pills so
I gotta juggle the love and the guilt
We live in a concrete jungle
That means it's a jungle we built
It's kill or be killed; it's cut throat
I know how a guillotine feel
I never was given a lie
And I battled for everything that I've got
Was rough a young one;
Was ducking them punches
That haters would throw on the block
A boy that was overly critical
She was saying my spanish was shot
But mumma was white and was single
So I couldn't practice in priv
I don't hit the mattress with thots
All of my women are driven
It might make me playing a lottery, homie
Cause you know that poverty feel like a prison
I gotta be what I gotta be, god
I swear that my religion is sinnin
Cos I do not ask for permission
I'd rather ask for forgiveness