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[intro: e-dot and loer velocity]
e-dot: ayyo, i feel this right here. yo. yo, loe. yo, i’ma rip this to shreds, yo. [?], you got this? yo. black flag, yo
loer velocity: yo, true. chill, chill, chill, [?]. no doubt, no doubt. let me get it right there. yeah, let me get it

[verse 1: loer velocity]
velocity, the god who you see in the flesh
change water to rhyme with this. don’t test
can i get a witness while i profess?
a fifty sack to the fellow who can get closest
truthfully, i’m soon to be that bodega poster
promoting your liver cancer and stomach ulcer
sike. man, i write like i’m supposed to host it dirty
for n-gg-s who want to knuckle up and prove they worthy
and only doing this to be proving a point
make sure it’s rolled tight, whether doobie or joint
dutch or garcia vega, “i” self from savior
truthfully, my square’s that of blue collar labor
overtime-working, always curtains for sure
connoisseur of what they call “sticky raw”
shifty, not as easygoing as before that
kick-in-the-door, wave-in-the-four-four-type mentality
get you for your bullsh-t weakly salary
you don’t want the beef—you said you don’t need the calories
style in these words disturb frequency
causing your cringing and begging for leniency
i do conveniently encomp-ss social
discrepancies as undertones in my vocals
p-ss on y’all corny, one-dimensional hopefuls
that the song plays on. yo, dot, bring in the soul

[verse 2: e-dot]
well, it’s the [?] shiznit, black-flag-enlisted
licking shots ‘til you ear pop like a biscuit
everything hurts, nothing specific. focused and i rip it, but
still, y’all sleep. it’s just ridiculous
to me, it’s deep. it’s like a sickness
and those that speak stay on my sh-t list
nice with these flows i frequent. still, they risk it
spit it precise and with a quickness, but
too phenomenal for y’all to diss it
i record, copyright, solicit. really, quite simplistic
been in it for a minute, but apparently you missed it
skeptics have dissed it. but, as it turns out
they were never realistic. i insisted that they shouldn’t
but they didn’t want to risk it, then get hit with
force of a bullet that is projected from a biscuit
predicament worse than the next skit. i dished it
do he? shoots for the three, but then he bricked it
how big could a n-gg- risk it?
[?] into all types of sick sh-t
we thorough and got a thick cl-t, a hairy chest, and a big d-ck
girls in every borough. dog, i’m pimp-slick
loose lips sink ships. can’t say names
legitimate, but, still, it’s all the same
yo, liquor fifth of mint and irish marks for your frame
e-dot rip it to you once again. it’s on. it’s like

[outro: loer velocity]
hahaha. aight. my neezy, e-deezy, take your blood clot easy. haha, word up. hot sh-t, son

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