Scum

[Part I] [Verse 1: Black Milk] Random, random, push till they fall back Grabbing the ball back, while I’m grabbin’ the hard hat Hard act to follow, we the hard pill to swallow You cotton that sit in an aspirin bottle Random Axe smash the throttle, grew up where’s ice cold Where niggas gamble with their life like a dice bowl This ain’t a light show, but you see them red blues Flashin’ on the tittie screen, Channel 7 news Where those lil dudes reach for Rugers Never surf the internet, never own computers You know the name, don’t know the face, then he the mover Whoever’s quietest in the room, then he the shooter The old heads don’t understand, askin’ how come? We don’t think like Martin while Malcolm was the outcome Any means nece-ssary yeah, where I’m from While I had pops, most grew up without one All they had was drugs, where the street wars met Walkin’ out everyday, with the Devil on yo doorstep Sittin’ on your porch in the post This the city limit, where you see they have no remorse at [Hook: Black Milk] It’s gone, gone, outta the slum Bang bang, put it in the air Same thing, seen ya over here, over there Bang bang, don’t nobody care what you had [Part II] [Interlude: Sean Price] Meanwhile (haha) We find Sean P On the toilet rolling a spliff Fuck is on his mind? [Verse: Sean Price] Four-fifth for your face And yo' faculty fuck boys, forfeit in your face, uh Shittin’, watchin’ you sittin’ on grapes Pre-paid, premeditated and murdered the aim, P! Achin ya kinfolks A.K.A. the ape in the window (Magilla) A traffic can indulge ya A Budweiser African king poster I’m doin’ my damn thing Them niggas claim king but ain’t doin’ a damn thing That’s my word to my moms I neva heard no one of ya songs, fuck outta here! And I don’t dislike you I disliked the dude that said I dislike you Long kiss, long fist, bitch, goodbye Can’t fuck with P, new fish to fry, P! [Part III] [Interlude] Times like here, I wasn’t playing This not for declaration... If they deal with me, they gotta come right They got to know their homework and something [Verse 3: Guilty Simpson] Once again, it’s Mr. I-Am-Not-Yo-Friend From the city where it’s commonly a tragic end They mad again, squeezin’ what they hold to leave a hole in you Half ass niggas are half again Mashin’ it, American shit, keep yo foreign cars They still like they war and odds They got help waitin’ Two pretty heaters, they named ‘em both Dropper-Dead-Gorgeous and Breath-Takin’ You’d rather check Satan, inhale while he inhales powder Softwhite They put it down in the lab like Walt White Soft fights, is what they give em Talkin’ workin’ on their off nights The bar’s tight, they sendin’ nears off on sight, overnight The fairput cats on your overbite Sweet cats, I know your life Bourbon cats, I know your wife Poet night, shake a house, no Poltergeist Takin’ flicks and yo stolen nights, the clip’s rollin’ right Paper chasin’ with this door in sight Takin’ ten kingpins out, they ballin’ stripes Show you right where they buried, right and they smoked his pipe Medicine through a cobra’s bite I hold the mic with the real concern in the facts Wait no more, return to the acts, return fire... Earn a writer when I burn a squire Self employed, the murder higher...