-Lyrics- INTROVERT: see, if i put jew on game... your game would be hott... fresh out the kitchen, an' what we cooking is rocc... i shot at the beat, and the beat just dropped... between me & you... ...i'm holding your spot... ...slamming domino! on your table, an' now your table now rocks... count all of your bones, and the bones, you din dropped... shoot dice, drink 40's... that's all i've been taught... f*ck b*tches, get shortties, you could argue the thot! (BRIDGE) blue rag, blue swagg... polka dots ugh whole nigga... red flag, red stag... drink ugh 5th of it, nigga... touche... you said... just, ride with a nigga... cliche... i choose... put, red dots on a nigga... VERSE: heard that, sleep is the cousin, and the homie of death... well, i'm stay grinding, till the reunion, and rest... yea... take a deep breath, and remember i said... yea... that knowledge is power, but power is head... yea... stay true, witness the birth of the realest... takes two, to make one... when the 3rd one is, missing... in the industry, niggas be on feelings and thoughts... while b*tches, they be chilling... in limbos, and yachts... oooohhhhh, gotta get it... that money and pussy... they both smell the same, in your motel building... you a rookie at best, i'm a veteran-nial! the better me won, now i'm feeling myself... true sh*t, two chicks... both panties missing... who dig it... ya nigga, up all in the middle... if it doesn't make sense, you probably won't live it... f*cking bad b*itches is a hard knock, of living... you could take my picture, and hang it in the kitchen... your daughter will steal it, and show all her niggas... i'm kinda like musiq, soulchild... and biggie... but the only real difference, is i'm more chilling... i went from being a deadbeat to a prodigal son... realizing that that life, ain't part of me... huh?... if the absolute value of Ø is none... then the absolute value of 1 is done...