@migu music@

We spent the last year writing rhymes doing shows and chopping records

And traveled all around the world to spread the message

＇Cause ain＇t no rest for the weary when it comes to my team

We only sleep on December the 32nd

DJ＇s dissin＇ the album before they check it

Dealin＇ with their managers and program directors

And even though I try not to stress it

Sometimes it feels like a waste of time and not worth the effort

Naw but I won＇t let it

Put a block on my team＇s hustle for a second

Poobie keep it rushing, as long as Tay and I on the mic

And 9th is on the percussion, these fronting dudes can＇t say nothing

It was only time for we finally spoke out

Plenty cold nights ahead I suggest you get your coats out

No time to stand here lips poked out we bout to closeout that stored up doubt

And keep it moving

Seems like whatever I do

Its not enough for you

I paid the cost and gave you my all

But you still want more

I＇m still standing right here

But it seems so unfair

That I sacrifice and give you my life

But you still want more

Been a long time comin＇

But damn we just made it

So much to discuss so frustrated

Yes, I must say that the industry lost touch

Radio better play this, ＇cause Tay＇s style is nuts

And y＇alls is just dated

Its history in the making

When I write its for all of N.C., call me the state pen

And now I＇m making my name for those who hate that I＇m

Staking my claim just like Nationwide

Radio, them suckas never play us

Took our wax to the station and they straight played us

That＇s how the game got contaminated

And now they sayin＇ we＇re at fault like the San Andreas

And still trying to play us

But not spin the record or disc

I got a fire burning deep that will not be extinguished

I mean this from the depths of my soul

People no more mind talk let my heart take control (ohhhhh)

- Listen to this, just listen to this

- Uh, right now, we gettin＇ it right now and now we gonna give you what you want

- Just listen to this, just listen to this

- I＇m talking you, you, you, and all of you in the back

And in the middle in the front, come on

Homie, this here is pain

I＇m speaking on this pitiful thing

That＇s now forever stained in the banks of my memory

You probably like, ＇they running this, b＇

But naw, I＇ll doubt we＇ll ever be

Its funny cats don＇t remember me

And don＇t think cause we all here that its gonna be all we

Or all love, its all bugged

Trying to mask them emotions with pounds and hugs

No more I say gotta make＇em pay

＇Cause I＇m tired of getting stepsonned in the worst way just wait

Them chips on my shoulder getting attached

When my pockets catch up Pooh＇s never turning back

Yo I ain＇t never heard a act to blow and go global

Then come back home and still be called local

And when we onstage the people they all front

Dope beats, dope rhymes what more do y＇all want (shout it out)