Intro 
Rap is over, Yo! 
Rap is over, Yo! 
Rap is over, Yo! 
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move?with

Verse 1: Skyzoo 
Understandable?smooth shit to?jump off the stoop with 
Know I?kick in my two cents, it?s duffles and toothpicks 
To give you 16 feels like if a pound flew in 
Competition Nutso, let?s GPS where the roof is, right 
The same flow came out the hallway with me 
I put ‘95 on my back like I?m DeAndre Bembry 
It?s like I?m Illmatic sitting on loop 
Meets Mortal Kombat finishing moves 
You seen what the genesis do 
And the endings is Jordan-esque or 
Whichever way that the play goes 
'Cause six joints will get you whatever, I came as Thanos 
I threw you jewels with an NYCHA flow 
Blue and orange signs like I was on Dolan's payroll 
Malcolm X Air Raid Nikes, by the caseload 
But still good to fuck with a Becky like John Stamos 
Taught to know that the rule of thumb was innuendos 
And to slay the Box but to make love to instrumentals 
Do the math

Verse 2: Benny The Butcher
I spend more on baggies than what they spent on the yola
Off a plate got rid of weight just like I'm Marsha Ambrosius
My bitch quit her job to shop and take up yoga
The strap on the Heckler and Koch made out of cobra
You know Benny stuffed them 12 12s skinnies until its over
Strip ladies still were stingy just like I'm Tommy Mottola
Nobody rhyme this dominant, honest, probably since Hova
Crown me kindly I'm known as the blueprint finally decoded
Proud to be noticed, watch me, all this grinding got me promoted
We clay statues poverty molded
I got rich with a Pyrex turn the forks around it
Then retired and got richer just by talking 'bout it
I'm still smoking on the rawest sour
Open a trap, close that, then count racks up after office hours
Fans want classics, the suckers want passes
Hustlers don't want much just comfortable traffic
All these rap niggas get is comfortable caskets
No subliminals, I'm shooting hunting bow accurate
Let's go, who run the city the most?
Me and Sky shot up the club like Diddy and 'Po
I be at your front door if it really was smoke
Every hustler who seen a brick say Benny the G.O.A.T
The Butcher

Verse 3: Conway The Machine
Everyone talking whose the best shit, all of y'all can stop it
For two years I recorded the hardest shit that's rockin'
Verse of the year on like all the shit I jotted
I raised the bar then I linked with Marshall in the process
I weighed the raw, I linked in Baltimore to cop it
It ain't no ice, leave the cold water on the locket
Yeah, now it's Audemar watches
50 points like Harden for the Rockets
Silencer on the barrel got a muffle the Sig
Popped a nigga in his side broke a couple of ribs
Sky, I was broke when we shot that Luxury vid
Now I'm on IG showing bitches what luxury is (HA!)
All year I made it clear they can't fuck with the kid
I need shorty that played Faith, 'cause I just did it big
Griselda Records, I'm the muscle, you dig?
I don't tussle, I let my gun touch you, you dig?
It's The Machine, bitch

Verse 4: Elzhi
I could teach you about the universe
The quasars are soon it bursts
The multiple suns, moons, the Earth
I rhyme exquisite and shut your city down
To the West, I'm a blizzard
On the East, I'm a Kamikaze pilot visit
Who said the kid in the visiting
Who envisioned green isn't mean
As a prison scene that don't keep they division clean
I spit that hot tamale wasabi mixture, that's a Rob Zombie picture
Stop playing checkers with Bobby Fischer
And just embrace it, I made it to the top floor out the basement
Blew your advance on a bracelet
Pick a line I write, that's not as wicked as a sick piranha bite
A brick of China white, lit wick on a stick of dynamite
A quick reminder might
Show you niggas with a slick persona
I hump through your chick pajamas and dick your mama right
Either the flow's acid, or a trigger finger to expose plastic
Leave a closed casket with a rose basket

Verse 5: Westside Gunn
Ayo, my first love was a MAC-10
I gotta have four, I had three bodies back then
Little snot nose nigga taking niggas chains off
(?) so big I had to hit it with the chainsaw
Aston Martin with the snakes seats
In the kitchen, four different stoves, fish waist deep
Yanking blue tops, 20 dollars get you three of 'em
(?) sweatsuit, leaning with the thing on him
Ayo, Versace on the goalie
Told my teacher "Fuck you!", I make class in a Rollie
Stack the hundred thousand, that was back in 2000
Sold a dummy brick, "hurry up, nigga count it!"
I need a cherry Maybach asap, and then counseling
(?) 30 (?) at the Radisson
Got 'em dirt cheap, (?) traveling
Make it back safe, 40 each I was adamant
Break one down, everything off the mannequin