text: Like a Houdini Im gone
  See you gettin played like a ball
  When I skin a motherfucker to the bone
  If he got a weak tone
  I see you coming at me all wrong
  Sit back take a hit of the bong
  Better get stoned
  Everybody wanna act strong
  They supporting the weak while they sitting at home all alone
  In front of their screen
  Never be punching a thing but their keys
  Flipping their border for kis
  Its just that they not from the hood as if it be good
  They in suburbia
  Where its safe for the kids like you
  You will never what Ive been through
  Cause I aint like you
  Talk talk all you do
  When it come time to do excuse excuse
  Say you making moves like a chess piece
  Better wear a vest these side of the tracks
  So you wanna hit a track with me
  Okay
  If you dont wanna pay
  Dont come my way
  Sick of the rappers say they got weight
  I try to come at you but you only got a 8th
  Get the fuck out my face
  Unless you wanna feed me the faith
  I dont resonate my game because of my shade
  But Ima eat, eat like a fat bitch at a buffet
  Stay the fuck out my way
  Brown bag boy
  Pants cut to the knees
  Gas station Tall T in a Grand Marquis
  See I keep it low-key
  Rather you dont know me
  I aint looking for no friends
  Yall just liabilities
  Wow! its really coming on strong...
  And then what you have to do is you have take one more enormous hit.
  6 on a Friday just got paid
  For the next 3 days Ima stay in a haze
  See I worked all day so I gave myself a raise
  I dont answer to nobody and my bills get paid
  He doesnt like you
  Im sorry
  I dont like you either. You just watch yourself were wanted men, I have the death sentence on twelve systems.
  Ill be careful
  Youll be dead!
  Wake up in the mornin hit the stu zip-tized
  Look to my right side and I see a dime lying
  Maybe thinking to myself what a wonderful life
  How that in the end Ill be the fucker dragged then ending up tied in the dirt
  So there was a motherfucker sayin I was rappin but a cracker
  Took my privacy, I catch him in my place
  So I cracked him in the face
  He a disgrace to my race
  White boy with no taste
  Put him in his place 
  Brown bag boy
  Pants cut to the knees
  Gas station Tall T in a Grand Marquis
  See I keep it low-key
  Rather you dont know me
  I aint looking for no friends
  Yall just liabilities