Ft. Problem, Ab-Soul, Punch

(Intro)
You gotta think about what we got in this game fo', man
Huh? Was it the rep?
Was it so our names could ring out on sum' fucking ghetto street corners, man?
Nah man, there’s games beyond this fuckin' game!

(Verse: Bad Lucc)
When ya niggas stop playing I stop playing the field
Like Cali niggas in Vegas I want mo'
I’ve exceeded my limit, limited living
I didn’t want much, couple of trips, she need a clutch capture
My extravagant mind thinking of new ways to be betta than most
& I’m rarely seen like a Blue Jay
Hall of fame shit, I been that, in my city I’m a wizard
Cali king, dance wit the devil down in the blizzard, ah
I’m out there running wit scissors but fuck it
Greatness come wit a price & I have become it
Feeling sum' type of way & so they stare, go to share
See all of this new age hype is like the Converse City stairs
Watch me, kind of cocky I deserve to be!
Decade in the booth so let’s be clear this shit is surgery
Sweat rag in my pocket cuz I’m known fo' going in
I could do this in my sleep so if it's beef, ya want me, damn!

(Verse 2: Ab-Soul)
Abstract ass hole
Dazzle the competition everywhere I tip toe
Had rappers on they heals way befo' the deal, bro
Deal wit it, get off my dill pickle fo' real
From a place where ya was raised to keep a steal wit ya 
Drop a splash of cognac to the pavement praying they still wit ya 
& they still miss ya, just missed the terrorist threats
Just after they went thru' TSA wit concealed missiles
In my carry on luggage, ya got a problem?
I’ll show ya what bad luck is, I won’t even punch
No pun intended, my president’s black & will fuck ya up
& no it ain’t taken a nap, but the gun is tucked
Is it just me or is it that yo time is up?
& every minute counts, did ya pass math o' what?!
Get to steppin' befo' I pick ya apart, spit on yo heart
Laugh at yo pain like I did Kevin’s

(Verse 3: Punch)
The combination of Donald Goines & Mickey Cohen
Literary gangsta to the core, try & spar wit the boy
Steph & Illy, ain’t no cake walk
This a wake waiting to happen, ya niggas luv napping
My Top Dawg faction running the atlas
Running amuck, on niggas who passed & wasn’t proactive
Yeah, that is the walk of shame crawling back
& tell this call em back once we get a couple southern acts
Well, ain’t too much changed
Flo' seat like a game, mile high private planes
& we did it our way, just hand in bars & business
Light years ahead of niggas, this is Stargate
Yea, the floss is real, prove the million dollar deal
On the treadmill, I’m that trill
No mo' runnin’ in place, we’ll still run up in yo place
& have ya runnin’ yo safe, or I’ll have Mack do it

(Verse 4: Problem)
Make way fo' the ratchet rapper, the matress thrashing
Outlasting the last rapper ya thought was betta
Weed color lighter than feathers, I’m heavy high
Was dealing dee befo' Heavy died
Got ‘em screaming like a scary ride but this ain’t magic mountain
Fuck, then bust, taste the magic fountain
Go against me, that’s a tragic album
I’m the winna bitch, ya the ugly hoes at the pageant pouting
They flock garbage, call out targets cocked & aim
Turn em into past & fast forward, Lebron James
Yea we balling, feel like dunking on a nigga
Pulling out wit hoes, all in they face, Hollywood parking on a nigga
See me shining so there’s no need to discuss figures
Shit bumping, I’m popping, watch out fo' puss nigga
Weed burn in yo face like mace, watch Puff nigga
& I turn my clubs all back on marks