I came from the gutter now I'm gunnin' for top
Burnin' ya shop - my beats blowin' up when it drop
Independently I rock when spittin' game
Remain gettin' change but the motto is still the same
B.A. got the ultimate brains breakin' the chains
Ordained in the gospel of rap - preachin' the facts
I'm black - bearin' witness to that - Throw ya hands to the sky
My battle cry is high till the day that I day
I'm addicted to the rhyme 'cuz all the time I find
I'm rippin' lines and fuck that i'm goin' for mine
See I do it for the love - it ain't about the papes
The dollars that I make be the icing on the cake
Playas can't hate my game is bullet proof-
Songs droppin' bombs on America's youth
Burnin' ya suit - Mash out the dollas and scoot
Droppin' it hot- but not sellin' out for tha loot
Now this is verse 2 let me keep shit clean
Hold up another minute you can see what I mean
Labels wanna play games its tha money that talk
I'm a bad muthafucka and I'm walkin' tha walk
Wanna promote this pop shit rap and rock shit
Fake thug rappin' on some fake as 'Pac shit
Shame how the mainstream lacks a brainstream
On each radio yo ya hearing the same thing
Say they wanna sign then they decline
With lines that there ain't enough thug in tha rhyme
What a crime when you gotta preach killin to sell
I rebel - yo ya fake A&R and advance can go to hell
It's all swell back at the ranch indeed
Droppin' these beats for 'delph so i shall proceed
Might die for the prize so I'd damn sure bleed
No price on rippin' mics you can fuck ya greed