(Smith)
What up dilz we be climbing hills these haters looking at us like we freakin pop pills./ We're signing deals and making mills can you feel/ we got them stumbling like they whereing heels/ I feast on these emcees for my daily meal/ yall appeal for my massive speal yall can never feel/ I've been doing this since 1999 check the rhymes you will never find guy with his flow defined/ I swear to god. This is what I wanna do, fighting dudes in my elementary school just because he thinks he's cool/ woah.. I run them back on that old school rap where the boom bap/ aye dog, quit your napping why you acting? Blow your nose in this napkin throw it in a trashcan. Imagine me on stage bashing with the mic in my hand and/ with a funny accent laughing I can't even fathom I love this rapping/ I'll tell enemy that he was consived on a intersection that's accidents happen...

(Dilz)
Your the type of guy to list your baby on trade me, and when cyf’s take it complain like they never paid me, I'm a handful but like a hand my mother raised me, to go against the regime, I may seem like I'm stuck in a day dream, I hit the age of eighteen, was raging without the machine, but it's these life lessons that are helping the teens, remembering my voice was like elvin and beibs, see my voice got deeper and I'm more serious, Paul bearers in all areas, morgues furious, war on inferiors, you look poor period, plus your hats shit so I’m thinking you should bury it, huh, get it, it’s time to put the past behind ya, life ain’t shit but a fat vagina, just call me king cunta, and get under my wing, when I’m on the mic I go a hundred and three, I’ve floated like a feather and I’ve stung like a bee, just treat me like a phone cus you answer to me, don’t claim to be a god but they all seem to, worship, the feeling that I give to other rappers now is, worthless, life is a job I’m the hardest of it’s workers, the way I craft a sentence you can tell that I’ma, wordsmith