[{"id":14796534,"name":"Back On Our Shit","trackName":"Back On Our Shit","artistName":"Forever M.C.","albumName":"Forever M.C.","duration":306.494694,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ah, we back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\nShoe Gang back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\nNah they ain't rappin' like this\nThat mumble rap shit don't make sense\nMan we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\nPut legends in the past, acura shit\n\nHickory dickory dock (hol' up)\nNiggas be kickin' them nursery rhymes\nThese niggas be pissin' me off (hol' up)\nFuck it I'll kick me a nursery rhyme (hi)\nHickory dickory dock (hol' up)\nShe gon' pour hickory sauce on my dickory\nThen she gon' lick the shit off (hol' up)\nShe gon' need a doc when I give her this cock (hol' up, hol' up)\nNiggas tryna randomly battle me,\nautomatically gotta be outta they rabid ass mind\nThey better have a Rabbit ass rhyme from 8 Mile to battle me\nOr bow in agony, no matter to me\nI'll battle the king of the battle scene\nAssault and battery in the battle ring of your majesty\nI'll even battle a madam just not in her anatomy\nBattle rap and schiz', brrat! outta the galaxy\nIf you take some NWA and Wu-Tang\nAnd you shake it up (up, up, up)\nThen you makin' Shoe Gang, you makin' Shoe Gang\nNow you drink it up (you drink it up, up, up)\nThat's what I tell her when I'm out with your girl\nThey call me Kakarot and an astronaut\nI'm just sayin' I'm out of this world\n\nI mob with a crew of Mufasas, so why would I worry?\nHakuna Matata\nOn this food chain you the medallion\nYou at the bottom, so you don't want problems\nI got enough knowledge to tutor a scholar\nMomma always told me: \"Do what you gotta\"\nMy crew gettin' hotter and hotter right now we like June in Nevada\nBut we soon to be hotter\nWe ain't on the cover of XXL\nWe from the underworld, no Beckinsale\nLook, half of me say: \"Fuck record sales\"\nI'm tryna reconcile with my reckless self\nEvery question I direct to self, are they fucking with me?\nNah, they ain't fucking with me\nYou'd rather subject yourself to restin' on a bed of nails\nMeet death, get your flesh impaled\nIf you don't fall from grace, I'll pull you down 'n shit\nY'all all are gay, look how you sound 'n shit\nIma tie you motherfuckers up in the closet\nKnow you got closet space, 'cause you came out that bitch\nAll that shit you sellin' I can't buy it\nSaid that your clique is better but they lyin'\nMy team like cavemen with these flames\nI mean we stick together to make fire\n\nWe back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\nShoe Gang back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\nNah they ain't rappin' like this\nThat mumble rap shit don't make sense\nMan we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\nPut legends in the past, acura shit\n\nDice is raisin' the heat, I don't mean the K is drawn\nMy flow is hot, flamin' y'all, I be eatin' MCs like Filet Mignon (Ah)\nShoe Gang finna go make bankrolls\nIt don't make sense if it don't make pesos\nThese wack niggas is gettin' away with murder\nBut that's old news like the OJ case, yo\nNigga, me vs you like MJ in his hayday vs OJ Mayo\nI'm a boss, she go when I say so\nArms'll start swingin' like Jose Canseco\nEverything you rep is fake, that's why me and you can't relate\nWe don't like your records 'cause your records gay\nWe here to set the record straight\nHol'up, hol'up, motherfuckers wanna back out when I black out\nI get sicker than a mad cow\nWe can beef for free or we can beef for cash now\nBeef or cash – cash cow\nYou never heard of me? I'm the petty king\nI'm married to crime, I snatched your bitch wedding ring\nD-I-C-E - Directly In Charge of Everything\nAnd my pockets stay evergreen\n\nFirst off, the earth is flat\nMotherfuckers shoulda knew I start my verse with that\nIf it's a ball, then show me where it's curvin' at\nThe UN logo is a flat earther map\nI be on them bitches like I am there\nI'm high, point to the sky, I am there\nWas never off completely, I'm aware\nStill a nigga back on it like a reclinin' chair\nTo open my mind, I'm turnin' to the reefer\nI put on my hood and turn into the reaper\nI merk and do what the verses do\nHot enough to burn into your speakers\nAlerting you, Ima murder you, I'm eager (yah)\nHate dudes that rap and say that's not what you about\nI find it ironic like gettin' pregnant on a couch that pulls out\nK-E-double-N-Y, Mister Every Day He's Stumblin' High\nMister Every Day He Fumblin' High\nMister I'ma Make Every Rapper Who Mumblin' Die\nPay 'em back like I owe 'em a favour\nI'm raw no rollin' of papers (yah)\nI be trippin' off that shit that's loud\nlike I'm comfortably scolding a neighbour\n\nWe back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\nShoe Gang back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\nNah they ain't rappin' like this\nThat mumble rap shit don't make sense\nMan we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\nPut legends in the past, acura shit\n\nI was in my sarcophagus sleepin',\nI was in a diamond mine chillin' on\nmy King Solomon shit (Solomon shit)\nAnd maybe whoop me,\nIma sleep to remind me of droppin' this bitch (droppin' this bitch)\nProbably was better to leave me off the record man\n'Cause you resurrected Kane,\nnow a menace to society collides with a zombie apocalypse twist\nI'm livin' like I can't be killed,\nI'm livin' like I ate dead rappers for my last three meals\nYa momma shoulda swallowed you in your\nfather's Apollo when she was a thot-thot\nGettin' back seat thrills (haha)\nWe on the backstreet still,\nwhere we pack heat still and the clap-clap got\n'em runnin' like a athlete at a track meet still\nNobody sellin' crack, we trap these pills\nThis is Amityville, this is how we feel, we strugglin'\nLife is like jugglin'\nButcher knives, niggas get cut and get blood in their eye\nJust keep on hustlin', numbers are doublin'\nYou don't wanna hear the horror story, we survived purgatory\nYou just wanna hear the war story glory,\nway before all these hoes was hanging out with the crew\nTalkin' everything they did to get the house next to you\nBank account full of loot, it was wild as a zoo\nWe was down for a while now the album is through\nBetter see five stars by the album review\nOr you and your people sleepin' underground in the zoo\n'Cause you don't know how hot it is\nI'm listenin' to the current competition\nGot a whole lotta confidence\nSomebody go and tell the archaeologists to close my sarcophagus\nI'm goin' back to sleep on you niggas\nGoodnight\n\nHahaha\nWe back on our shit","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Back On Our Shit\n  artist: Forever M.C.\n  album: Forever M.C.\n  duration_ms: 306495\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ah, we back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\n  Shoe Gang back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\n  Nah they ain't rappin' like this\n  That mumble rap shit don't make sense\n  Man we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\n  Put legends in the past, acura shit\n\n  Hickory dickory dock (hol' up)\n  Niggas be kickin' them nursery rhymes\n  These niggas be pissin' me off (hol' up)\n  Fuck it I'll kick me a nursery rhyme (hi)\n  Hickory dickory dock (hol' up)\n  She gon' pour hickory sauce on my dickory\n  Then she gon' lick the shit off (hol' up)\n  She gon' need a doc when I give her this cock (hol' up, hol' up)\n  Niggas tryna randomly battle me,\n  automatically gotta be outta they rabid ass mind\n  They better have a Rabbit ass rhyme from 8 Mile to battle me\n  Or bow in agony, no matter to me\n  I'll battle the king of the battle scene\n  Assault and battery in the battle ring of your majesty\n  I'll even battle a madam just not in her anatomy\n  Battle rap and schiz', brrat! outta the galaxy\n  If you take some NWA and Wu-Tang\n  And you shake it up (up, up, up)\n  Then you makin' Shoe Gang, you makin' Shoe Gang\n  Now you drink it up (you drink it up, up, up)\n  That's what I tell her when I'm out with your girl\n  They call me Kakarot and an astronaut\n  I'm just sayin' I'm out of this world\n\n  I mob with a crew of Mufasas, so why would I worry?\n  Hakuna Matata\n  On this food chain you the medallion\n  You at the bottom, so you don't want problems\n  I got enough knowledge to tutor a scholar\n  Momma always told me: \"Do what you gotta\"\n  My crew gettin' hotter and hotter right now we like June in Nevada\n  But we soon to be hotter\n  We ain't on the cover of XXL\n  We from the underworld, no Beckinsale\n  Look, half of me say: \"Fuck record sales\"\n  I'm tryna reconcile with my reckless self\n  Every question I direct to self, are they fucking with me?\n  Nah, they ain't fucking with me\n  You'd rather subject yourself to restin' on a bed of nails\n  Meet death, get your flesh impaled\n  If you don't fall from grace, I'll pull you down 'n shit\n  Y'all all are gay, look how you sound 'n shit\n  Ima tie you motherfuckers up in the closet\n  Know you got closet space, 'cause you came out that bitch\n  All that shit you sellin' I can't buy it\n  Said that your clique is better but they lyin'\n  My team like cavemen with these flames\n  I mean we stick together to make fire\n\n  We back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\n  Shoe Gang back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\n  Nah they ain't rappin' like this\n  That mumble rap shit don't make sense\n  Man we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\n  Put legends in the past, acura shit\n\n  Dice is raisin' the heat, I don't mean the K is drawn\n  My flow is hot, flamin' y'all, I be eatin' MCs like Filet Mignon (Ah)\n  Shoe Gang finna go make bankrolls\n  It don't make sense if it don't make pesos\n  These wack niggas is gettin' away with murder\n  But that's old news like the OJ case, yo\n  Nigga, me vs you like MJ in his hayday vs OJ Mayo\n  I'm a boss, she go when I say so\n  Arms'll start swingin' like Jose Canseco\n  Everything you rep is fake, that's why me and you can't relate\n  We don't like your records 'cause your records gay\n  We here to set the record straight\n  Hol'up, hol'up, motherfuckers wanna back out when I black out\n  I get sicker than a mad cow\n  We can beef for free or we can beef for cash now\n  Beef or cash – cash cow\n  You never heard of me? I'm the petty king\n  I'm married to crime, I snatched your bitch wedding ring\n  D-I-C-E - Directly In Charge of Everything\n  And my pockets stay evergreen\n\n  First off, the earth is flat\n  Motherfuckers shoulda knew I start my verse with that\n  If it's a ball, then show me where it's curvin' at\n  The UN logo is a flat earther map\n  I be on them bitches like I am there\n  I'm high, point to the sky, I am there\n  Was never off completely, I'm aware\n  Still a nigga back on it like a reclinin' chair\n  To open my mind, I'm turnin' to the reefer\n  I put on my hood and turn into the reaper\n  I merk and do what the verses do\n  Hot enough to burn into your speakers\n  Alerting you, Ima murder you, I'm eager (yah)\n  Hate dudes that rap and say that's not what you about\n  I find it ironic like gettin' pregnant on a couch that pulls out\n  K-E-double-N-Y, Mister Every Day He's Stumblin' High\n  Mister Every Day He Fumblin' High\n  Mister I'ma Make Every Rapper Who Mumblin' Die\n  Pay 'em back like I owe 'em a favour\n  I'm raw no rollin' of papers (yah)\n  I be trippin' off that shit that's loud\n  like I'm comfortably scolding a neighbour\n\n  We back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\n  Shoe Gang back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\n  Nah they ain't rappin' like this\n  That mumble rap shit don't make sense\n  Man we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\n  Put legends in the past, acura shit\n\n  I was in my sarcophagus sleepin',\n  I was in a diamond mine chillin' on\n  my King Solomon shit (Solomon shit)\n  And maybe whoop me,\n  Ima sleep to remind me of droppin' this bitch (droppin' this bitch)\n  Probably was better to leave me off the record man\n  'Cause you resurrected Kane,\n  now a menace to society collides with a zombie apocalypse twist\n  I'm livin' like I can't be killed,\n  I'm livin' like I ate dead rappers for my last three meals\n  Ya momma shoulda swallowed you in your\n  father's Apollo when she was a thot-thot\n  Gettin' back seat thrills (haha)\n  We on the backstreet still,\n  where we pack heat still and the clap-clap got\n  'em runnin' like a athlete at a track meet still\n  Nobody sellin' crack, we trap these pills\n  This is Amityville, this is how we feel, we strugglin'\n  Life is like jugglin'\n  Butcher knives, niggas get cut and get blood in their eye\n  Just keep on hustlin', numbers are doublin'\n  You don't wanna hear the horror story, we survived purgatory\n  You just wanna hear the war story glory,\n  way before all these hoes was hanging out with the crew\n  Talkin' everything they did to get the house next to you\n  Bank account full of loot, it was wild as a zoo\n  We was down for a while now the album is through\n  Better see five stars by the album review\n  Or you and your people sleepin' underground in the zoo\n  'Cause you don't know how hot it is\n  I'm listenin' to the current competition\n  Got a whole lotta confidence\n  Somebody go and tell the archaeologists to close my sarcophagus\n  I'm goin' back to sleep on you niggas\n  Goodnight\n\n  Hahaha\n  We back on our shit\n"},{"id":10017594,"name":"Back On Our Shit (feat. KXNG Crooked & Horseshoe G.A.N.G.)","trackName":"Back On Our Shit (feat. KXNG Crooked & Horseshoe G.A.N.G.)","artistName":"Forever M.C.","albumName":"Forever M.C.","duration":306.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ah, we back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\nShoe Gang back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\nNah they ain't rappin' like this\nThat mumble rap shit don't make sense\nMan we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\nPut legends in the past, acura shit\n\nHickory dickory dock (hol' up)\nNiggas be kickin' them nursery rhymes\nThese niggas be pissin' me off (hol' up)\nFuck it I'll kick me a nursery rhyme (hi)\nHickory dickory dock (hol' up)\nShe gon' pour hickory sauce on my dickory\nThen she gon' lick the shit off (hol' up)\nShe gon' need a doc when I give her this cock (hol' up, hol' up)\nNiggas tryna randomly battle me,\nautomatically gotta be outta they rabid ass mind\nThey better have a Rabbit ass rhyme from 8 Mile to battle me\nOr bow in agony, no matter to me\nI'll battle the king of the battle scene\nAssault and battery in the battle ring of your majesty\nI'll even battle a madam just not in her anatomy\nBattle rap and schiz', brrat! outta the galaxy\nIf you take some NWA and Wu-Tang\nAnd you shake it up (up, up, up)\nThen you makin' Shoe Gang, you makin' Shoe Gang\nNow you drink it up (you drink it up, up, up)\nThat's what I tell her when I'm out with your girl\nThey call me Kakarot and an astronaut\nI'm just sayin' I'm out of this world\n\nI mob with a crew of Mufasas, so why would I worry?\nHakuna Matata\nOn this food chain you the medallion\nYou at the bottom, so you don't want problems\nI got enough knowledge to tutor a scholar\nMomma always told me: \"Do what you gotta\"\nMy crew gettin' hotter and hotter right now we like June in Nevada\nBut we soon to be hotter\nWe ain't on the cover of XXL\nWe from the underworld, no Beckinsale\nLook, half of me say: \"Fuck record sales\"\nI'm tryna reconcile with my reckless self\nEvery question I direct to self, are they fucking with me?\nNah, they ain't fucking with me\nYou'd rather subject yourself to restin' on a bed of nails\nMeet death, get your flesh impaled\nIf you don't fall from grace, I'll pull you down 'n shit\nY'all all are gay, look how you sound 'n shit\nIma tie you motherfuckers up in the closet\nKnow you got closet space, 'cause you came out that bitch\nAll that shit you sellin' I can't buy it\nSaid that your clique is better but they lyin'\nMy team like cavemen with these flames\nI mean we stick together to make fire\n\nWe back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\nShoe Gang back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\nNah they ain't rappin' like this\nThat mumble rap shit don't make sense\nMan we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\nPut legends in the past, acura shit\n\nDice is raisin' the heat, I don't mean the K is drawn\nMy flow is hot, flamin' y'all, I be eatin' MCs like Filet Mignon (Ah)\nShoe Gang finna go make bankrolls\nIt don't make sense if it don't make pesos\nThese wack niggas is gettin' away with murder\nBut that's old news like the OJ case, yo\nNigga, me vs you like MJ in his hayday vs OJ Mayo\nI'm a boss, she go when I say so\nArms'll start swingin' like Jose Canseco\nEverything you rep is fake, that's why me and you can't relate\nWe don't like your records 'cause your records gay\nWe here to set the record straight\nHol'up, hol'up, motherfuckers wanna back out when I black out\nI get sicker than a mad cow\nWe can beef for free or we can beef for cash now\nBeef or cash – cash cow\nYou never heard of me? I'm the petty king\nI'm married to crime, I snatched your bitch wedding ring\nD-I-C-E - Directly In Charge of Everything\nAnd my pockets stay evergreen\n\nFirst off, the earth is flat\nMotherfuckers shoulda knew I start my verse with that\nIf it's a ball, then show me where it's curvin' at\nThe UN logo is a flat earther map\nI be on them bitches like I am there\nI'm high, point to the sky, I am there\nWas never off completely, I'm aware\nStill a nigga back on it like a reclinin' chair\nTo open my mind, I'm turnin' to the reefer\nI put on my hood and turn into the reaper\nI merk and do what the verses do\nHot enough to burn into your speakers\nAlerting you, Ima murder you, I'm eager (yah)\nHate dudes that rap and say that's not what you about\nI find it ironic like gettin' pregnant on a couch that pulls out\nK-E-double-N-Y, Mister Every Day He's Stumblin' High\nMister Every Day He Fumblin' High\nMister I'ma Make Every Rapper Who Mumblin' Die\nPay 'em back like I owe 'em a favour\nI'm raw no rollin' of papers (yah)\nI be trippin' off that shit that's loud\nlike I'm comfortably scolding a neighbour\n\nWe back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\nShoe Gang back on our shit\nRappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\nNah they ain't rappin' like this\nThat mumble rap shit don't make sense\nMan we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\nPut legends in the past, acura shit\n\nI was in my sarcophagus sleepin',\nI was in a diamond mine chillin' on\nmy King Solomon shit (Solomon shit)\nAnd maybe whoop me,\nIma sleep to remind me of droppin' this bitch (droppin' this bitch)\nProbably was better to leave me off the record man\n'Cause you resurrected Kane,\nnow a menace to society collides with a zombie apocalypse twist\nI'm livin' like I can't be killed,\nI'm livin' like I ate dead rappers for my last three meals\nYa momma shoulda swallowed you in your\nfather's Apollo when she was a thot-thot\nGettin' back seat thrills (haha)\nWe on the backstreet still,\nwhere we pack heat still and the clap-clap got\n'em runnin' like a athlete at a track meet still\nNobody sellin' crack, we trap these pills\nThis is Amityville, this is how we feel, we strugglin'\nLife is like jugglin'\nButcher knives, niggas get cut and get blood in their eye\nJust keep on hustlin', numbers are doublin'\nYou don't wanna hear the horror story, we survived purgatory\nYou just wanna hear the war story glory,\nway before all these hoes was hanging out with the crew\nTalkin' everything they did to get the house next to you\nBank account full of loot, it was wild as a zoo\nWe was down for a while now the album is through\nBetter see five stars by the album review\nOr you and your people sleepin' underground in the zoo\n'Cause you don't know how hot it is\nI'm listenin' to the current competition\nGot a whole lotta confidence\nSomebody go and tell the archaeologists to close my sarcophagus\nI'm goin' back to sleep on you niggas\nGoodnight\n\nHahaha\nWe back on our shit","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Back On Our Shit (feat. KXNG Crooked & Horseshoe G.A.N.G.)\n  artist: Forever M.C.\n  album: Forever M.C.\n  duration_ms: 306000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ah, we back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\n  Shoe Gang back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\n  Nah they ain't rappin' like this\n  That mumble rap shit don't make sense\n  Man we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\n  Put legends in the past, acura shit\n\n  Hickory dickory dock (hol' up)\n  Niggas be kickin' them nursery rhymes\n  These niggas be pissin' me off (hol' up)\n  Fuck it I'll kick me a nursery rhyme (hi)\n  Hickory dickory dock (hol' up)\n  She gon' pour hickory sauce on my dickory\n  Then she gon' lick the shit off (hol' up)\n  She gon' need a doc when I give her this cock (hol' up, hol' up)\n  Niggas tryna randomly battle me,\n  automatically gotta be outta they rabid ass mind\n  They better have a Rabbit ass rhyme from 8 Mile to battle me\n  Or bow in agony, no matter to me\n  I'll battle the king of the battle scene\n  Assault and battery in the battle ring of your majesty\n  I'll even battle a madam just not in her anatomy\n  Battle rap and schiz', brrat! outta the galaxy\n  If you take some NWA and Wu-Tang\n  And you shake it up (up, up, up)\n  Then you makin' Shoe Gang, you makin' Shoe Gang\n  Now you drink it up (you drink it up, up, up)\n  That's what I tell her when I'm out with your girl\n  They call me Kakarot and an astronaut\n  I'm just sayin' I'm out of this world\n\n  I mob with a crew of Mufasas, so why would I worry?\n  Hakuna Matata\n  On this food chain you the medallion\n  You at the bottom, so you don't want problems\n  I got enough knowledge to tutor a scholar\n  Momma always told me: \"Do what you gotta\"\n  My crew gettin' hotter and hotter right now we like June in Nevada\n  But we soon to be hotter\n  We ain't on the cover of XXL\n  We from the underworld, no Beckinsale\n  Look, half of me say: \"Fuck record sales\"\n  I'm tryna reconcile with my reckless self\n  Every question I direct to self, are they fucking with me?\n  Nah, they ain't fucking with me\n  You'd rather subject yourself to restin' on a bed of nails\n  Meet death, get your flesh impaled\n  If you don't fall from grace, I'll pull you down 'n shit\n  Y'all all are gay, look how you sound 'n shit\n  Ima tie you motherfuckers up in the closet\n  Know you got closet space, 'cause you came out that bitch\n  All that shit you sellin' I can't buy it\n  Said that your clique is better but they lyin'\n  My team like cavemen with these flames\n  I mean we stick together to make fire\n\n  We back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\n  Shoe Gang back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\n  Nah they ain't rappin' like this\n  That mumble rap shit don't make sense\n  Man we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\n  Put legends in the past, acura shit\n\n  Dice is raisin' the heat, I don't mean the K is drawn\n  My flow is hot, flamin' y'all, I be eatin' MCs like Filet Mignon (Ah)\n  Shoe Gang finna go make bankrolls\n  It don't make sense if it don't make pesos\n  These wack niggas is gettin' away with murder\n  But that's old news like the OJ case, yo\n  Nigga, me vs you like MJ in his hayday vs OJ Mayo\n  I'm a boss, she go when I say so\n  Arms'll start swingin' like Jose Canseco\n  Everything you rep is fake, that's why me and you can't relate\n  We don't like your records 'cause your records gay\n  We here to set the record straight\n  Hol'up, hol'up, motherfuckers wanna back out when I black out\n  I get sicker than a mad cow\n  We can beef for free or we can beef for cash now\n  Beef or cash – cash cow\n  You never heard of me? I'm the petty king\n  I'm married to crime, I snatched your bitch wedding ring\n  D-I-C-E - Directly In Charge of Everything\n  And my pockets stay evergreen\n\n  First off, the earth is flat\n  Motherfuckers shoulda knew I start my verse with that\n  If it's a ball, then show me where it's curvin' at\n  The UN logo is a flat earther map\n  I be on them bitches like I am there\n  I'm high, point to the sky, I am there\n  Was never off completely, I'm aware\n  Still a nigga back on it like a reclinin' chair\n  To open my mind, I'm turnin' to the reefer\n  I put on my hood and turn into the reaper\n  I merk and do what the verses do\n  Hot enough to burn into your speakers\n  Alerting you, Ima murder you, I'm eager (yah)\n  Hate dudes that rap and say that's not what you about\n  I find it ironic like gettin' pregnant on a couch that pulls out\n  K-E-double-N-Y, Mister Every Day He's Stumblin' High\n  Mister Every Day He Fumblin' High\n  Mister I'ma Make Every Rapper Who Mumblin' Die\n  Pay 'em back like I owe 'em a favour\n  I'm raw no rollin' of papers (yah)\n  I be trippin' off that shit that's loud\n  like I'm comfortably scolding a neighbour\n\n  We back on our shit, yeah, we back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, man we back on our shit\n  Shoe Gang back on our shit\n  Rappity rappity shit, they ain't rappin' like this\n  Nah they ain't rappin' like this\n  That mumble rap shit don't make sense\n  Man we come for your throat, yeah, we come for the GOAT\n  Put legends in the past, acura shit\n\n  I was in my sarcophagus sleepin',\n  I was in a diamond mine chillin' on\n  my King Solomon shit (Solomon shit)\n  And maybe whoop me,\n  Ima sleep to remind me of droppin' this bitch (droppin' this bitch)\n  Probably was better to leave me off the record man\n  'Cause you resurrected Kane,\n  now a menace to society collides with a zombie apocalypse twist\n  I'm livin' like I can't be killed,\n  I'm livin' like I ate dead rappers for my last three meals\n  Ya momma shoulda swallowed you in your\n  father's Apollo when she was a thot-thot\n  Gettin' back seat thrills (haha)\n  We on the backstreet still,\n  where we pack heat still and the clap-clap got\n  'em runnin' like a athlete at a track meet still\n  Nobody sellin' crack, we trap these pills\n  This is Amityville, this is how we feel, we strugglin'\n  Life is like jugglin'\n  Butcher knives, niggas get cut and get blood in their eye\n  Just keep on hustlin', numbers are doublin'\n  You don't wanna hear the horror story, we survived purgatory\n  You just wanna hear the war story glory,\n  way before all these hoes was hanging out with the crew\n  Talkin' everything they did to get the house next to you\n  Bank account full of loot, it was wild as a zoo\n  We was down for a while now the album is through\n  Better see five stars by the album review\n  Or you and your people sleepin' underground in the zoo\n  'Cause you don't know how hot it is\n  I'm listenin' to the current competition\n  Got a whole lotta confidence\n  Somebody go and tell the archaeologists to close my sarcophagus\n  I'm goin' back to sleep on you niggas\n  Goodnight\n\n  Hahaha\n  We back on our shit\n"}]