[Verse 1: Couch Potato]
Get ready for the force when I bring it back
To real spittas that deal facts, that's real rap
Stand back if you too yellow belly too get on my level
Too mellow in the cut, pulling strings like Geppetto
Seen fellows rapping about all their style and potential
But they wack, edible and lack credible credentials
Got props in the ghetto where my chemistry is spreading
They're too elementary to knock out of my element
Competition is nonexistent to me, see
Murder tracks every time, every line is a crime scene
Different lyrical bullets identical in bringing influence
Killing a tune, bringing life to it
Like a miracle of syllables
I'm giving you a minute to
Hear an original before hitting the pinnacle
Now I gotta buzz and I'm catching hella traffic
Yellow badges out tryna red light my green stacking
Yellow taped the verse, sent a hearse full of body bags
Kicking like karate class, or a shotti blast
Every syllable on a mission to kill and get my loot
With clips, that make them niggas skip to the motherfucking loo
Black masks, black bats hit them with the rhythm
Popping caps in a cats ass for capital backlash
Can't hold us back, you can hold these
Only look in my direction when you catch a nosebleed
My drive is hard, titanium truck
Hard as putting out a forest fire with a wet sponge
And I'm running with a hungry army
We got all these other artist praying we gon stumble
But we gon come out on top regardless
Ammunition kicking what the crack heads sniffing
Sick spitting with an addiction to musical tradition
[Chorus: Couch Potato and Ca$H]
Yea and you don't stop
'Cus we bout to kill the game, put these lames in a box
Yea and you don't stop
Man you better fall back when Couch Potato drop
Yea and you don't stop
Money Gang/CMC we got this rap shit locked
Yea and you don't stop
I do a 187 on your motherfucking block
[Verse 2: Couch Potato]
See I came to rock the mic
You can try to act like you half as nice
You either hard or not, no hermaphrodite
We take the game from these lames and hold it right
I hold company with the greatest spittas they show love for me
If you scared nigga, hold a teddy bear, I hear it's comforting
If you not running with me, I think you better run from me
Like Whoppi having a baby, this shit is bound to get ugly
It isn't for the weak I say, Grind hard ain't sleep in the past two days
Like a nigga won't eat if I don't get paid. If it's beef, I'm bring A1
Bring it on nigga, I'm spitting that heat. No Lebron. The war is on
I'll make sure you're gone for the last quarter of the song
Gravity keeps nagging me like, how u gon defy me?
Fly that's why them niggas try to do me grimy
Mad cause you invisible, could a made a minute rhyme put him in critical
Really tho. Never mind them I'm winning, so your girl wanna be in my new video
Bumping this through my stereo, that real music sound
Rhyming on the beats till I'm rolling with the top down
[Chorus]
Get ready for the force when I bring it back
To real spittas that deal facts, that's real rap
Stand back if you too yellow belly too get on my level
Too mellow in the cut, pulling strings like Geppetto
Seen fellows rapping about all their style and potential
But they wack, edible and lack credible credentials
Got props in the ghetto where my chemistry is spreading
They're too elementary to knock out of my element
Competition is nonexistent to me, see
Murder tracks every time, every line is a crime scene
Different lyrical bullets identical in bringing influence
Killing a tune, bringing life to it
Like a miracle of syllables
I'm giving you a minute to
Hear an original before hitting the pinnacle
Now I gotta buzz and I'm catching hella traffic
Yellow badges out tryna red light my green stacking
Yellow taped the verse, sent a hearse full of body bags
Kicking like karate class, or a shotti blast
Every syllable on a mission to kill and get my loot
With clips, that make them niggas skip to the motherfucking loo
Black masks, black bats hit them with the rhythm
Popping caps in a cats ass for capital backlash
Can't hold us back, you can hold these
Only look in my direction when you catch a nosebleed
My drive is hard, titanium truck
Hard as putting out a forest fire with a wet sponge
And I'm running with a hungry army
We got all these other artist praying we gon stumble
But we gon come out on top regardless
Ammunition kicking what the crack heads sniffing
Sick spitting with an addiction to musical tradition
[Chorus: Couch Potato and Ca$H]
Yea and you don't stop
'Cus we bout to kill the game, put these lames in a box
Yea and you don't stop
Man you better fall back when Couch Potato drop
Yea and you don't stop
Money Gang/CMC we got this rap shit locked
Yea and you don't stop
I do a 187 on your motherfucking block
[Verse 2: Couch Potato]
See I came to rock the mic
You can try to act like you half as nice
You either hard or not, no hermaphrodite
We take the game from these lames and hold it right
I hold company with the greatest spittas they show love for me
If you scared nigga, hold a teddy bear, I hear it's comforting
If you not running with me, I think you better run from me
Like Whoppi having a baby, this shit is bound to get ugly
It isn't for the weak I say, Grind hard ain't sleep in the past two days
Like a nigga won't eat if I don't get paid. If it's beef, I'm bring A1
Bring it on nigga, I'm spitting that heat. No Lebron. The war is on
I'll make sure you're gone for the last quarter of the song
Gravity keeps nagging me like, how u gon defy me?
Fly that's why them niggas try to do me grimy
Mad cause you invisible, could a made a minute rhyme put him in critical
Really tho. Never mind them I'm winning, so your girl wanna be in my new video
Bumping this through my stereo, that real music sound
Rhyming on the beats till I'm rolling with the top down
[Chorus]
( Couch Potato )
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