text: Hook
  You wanna test us?
  You better put your vest up
  Its lots of hatred in the streets
  My nigga fess up
  You wanna test us?
  You better put your vest up
  Its lots of hatred in the streets
  My nigga fess up
  Verse 1: Kold Blooded
  I smoke herb all day
  Fuck what a hater say
  Washed up ass rappers always talking about that gun play
  You cant even hang against this verbal apocalypse
  Always causing online drama
  Still they music sound like shit
  I got money on it
  Smoking blunts forever got twenty on it
  Fuck a dub
  I smoke way more bud then your ass could afford and
  Rip em up
  Actually, fuck a Ripp
  Bitch, I will stick em up
  Im blasphemous
  Having all these snitches wanna give it up
  Schema the posse
  Ill burn up yo body
  My words are more deadly than all of
  You wanna best all put together
  Youre better off dead
  Keep talking shit and Ill go for your head
  End a motherfuckers life for thinkin that he hard
  Now You dealing with the schemas
  When you fuckin wit da gawd
  When I ride I glide
  Wit a sword on my side
  Whether day or the night
  You dont wanna collide, motherfucker
  Verse 2: GHOSTEMANE
  Skinny young kid with them big buck teeth and on top sitting on chrome ds
  Had a nine-mili
  Never seen a precinct
  So I keep a twenty two on me
  But Im quick to hit a motherfucker with a bat
  Talk back
  Get slapped to the ground, on me
  I recall a time when I had less hate in my heart before these fucking hypebeasts
  Im starting shit but best believe I finish it without a trace
  Bury you up in your yard next to your cat that died in second grade
  Death to all of the jits that dont got shit but judge like Judy Sheindlin
  Ima fall asleep tonight to Superjail looking at the ceiling
  Im living what you rap about
  Shoutout to Juicy J
  Keep on giving bitches shopping money till they give you brain
  Me? I dont give a damn, kid
  But I got no hoe, better get your shit
  Schema that clique
  Dont fuck with a bitch that aint up on they hustle tip, uh
  Verse 3: Mr. Sisco
  Niggas be hating but I just be waiting for niggas to pop off with all of they shit
  Run with the clique and we bobbin so thick and we up in your track and we moving that bitch
  Run with and Ghoste so they coming to kill and we leaving them up in the smoke
  I be the Jesus thats black
  Killing them all
  Leaving them comatose
  Lyrical 
  Im dropping these niggas
  They and reaching for views
  Im done with they shit so its up to you
  Please tell me what you wanna do
  Im the king of the funky, bitch
  I been dropping funky hits
  Live to a little, bitch
  Bucking niggas that fuck they 
  Leaving niggas with fucking stitches
  Im digging them fucking ditches
  Im playing with crucifixes
  Im cursing all in my vision
  My mind is so fucking twisted but Im just a-fucking-dicted
  I and fucking lifted
  That herb got me seeing spirits, shit