[Verse 1: Jay Exodus]
Uh, Eastside n***a, can't rock Amiris, the pockets too little
Ground control, spaceship equipped with a shield and some missiles
With us, or you ain't, either way, we gon' blast off
N***as made no accomplishments, why you mad, dog?
Envy twenty-twenty vision ever since you was twenty
Down bad and bummy, always talkin' 'bout old money
For fun, you ran the streets for years, that's pro-fumbly-rumbly
Foundation fucked for sure and the future's lookin' funky
Uptown baby, Bailey Ave where I seen the most
My girl seen my totes and damn near caught the Holy Ghost
Took her hands, she had laid 'em on me, she prayin' for me
Five-five, without the scraps, so ain't no one playin' with me
From a city broke bitches beg and bash n***as not havin' money
All it take to hit is Henny, haze and I have a honey
Told you I was cold, caught the flu, now they nose runny
Told you I was him and I'm the GOAT, eatin' spicy curry
N***as wanted smoke, I turned this shit quickly to a movie
But this real life, I named my KelTec Bill Murray
Nina on my waist, speak no Inglés, but she great
This could be your last, all that shit talk might seal your fate
Frosting on my face from all this cake that I had ate
Lactose, but all this cheese in my pockets feel great
Slid through on them 808s, shit changin' day to day
Never get too comfortable in life, can't be complacent
Zaza in the vintage vase, Versaces in the leather case
Merlot with the Wagyu steak, pistols with extended stay
[Interlude: Jay Exodus & Conway the Machine]
Yeah, yeah
Pistol on my waist, through the field everyday
One thing known for certain, that these streets don't play
Trying to stay above it while I age with grace
Rest in peace, my n***as that ain't make it to this day
Pistol on my waist, through the field everyday
One thing known for certain, that these streets don't play
I done earned my stripes, I done earned my stake
This money on my mind 'cause the time do pay, yeah
This money on my mind 'cause the time do pay
Yeah, yeah, this money on my mind 'cause the time do pay

[Verse 2: Conway the Machine]
Uh, gettin' straight to the money, I ain't gon' stall at all (Uh-uh)
You talkin' crazy like you don't respect your jaw at all (Okay)
Raised by the Gz, shit, Dough and Domani taught us all (My Gz)
I bounced back like a Spalding ball when I lost it all (Hahaha)
Cops pullin' over my foreign car and I'm smartin' off ('Fuck you want?)
Fuck your gang, we killin' all involved (Uh-huh)
I been this way since I started off
I'm Ed Reed, heads bleed, these CTE bars, you gettin' carted off
The field (Talk to 'em), I'm ill
Tuh, you know the drill, got my blower still (Uh-huh)
N***as talk money, but couldn't show a mill' (Hahaha)
Drumwork the dynasty, my ho a meal
Bars hittin' like Brian Urlacher when he on Soldier Field (Woo)
This feel like I'm in the spot baggin' up yola still ('Kay)
For real, and if my name bein' spoken still, I blow the steel
Shoot him in his back, fuck up his motor skills (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
For real, this Eastside, May Block shit, you know the drill (Brrt)
Machine (Yeah)