Surrounded by Millionaires

[Verse 1: Busdriver] We rub elbows with the super rich Showing up exuberance We're futurists, we shoot the shit So we need our computer fixed My peoples for the usefulness (that's why) I'm surrounded by millionaires The OG cliques and class No opiates en masse, we scoping graphs I'm surrounded by millionaires But they stitch flags with dishrags Kick a jab any prick with a badge till he screams [Hook: Busdriver] I'm surrounded by millionaires We making millions No, we made of millions There's no difference We breaking ceilings We making millions No, we made of millions There's no difference We breaking ceilings We making millions No, we made of millions These ancient dealings They be breaking ceilings These ancient dealings They be breaking ceilings I'm made of millions I made it [Post-Hook: Busdriver] When I kill the game, it's not murder I'm now suspicious and the cops murmur They push the border of the blocks further So they mythologize their top earners My squadron ain't hot rhymin Place a squad car across from the knee[?] Niggas just like us [Verse 2: Daveed Diggs] Chinchilla skin graft, full-length Except for the bear's feet stitched to the bare feet And when I bare teeth it's karats Fuck floss, boss up, nigga, be tossed off A refusal to be refused Like a motherfucker let loose Ever been a uzi, 'scuse me (blah) Two times (blah, blah) Come up off of everything you got up in the backpack, back that Give me fifty feet I'll walk a mile, follow Give me fifty cent I make it rain by tomorrow Swallowed every pill I'm on a million while you talking Keeping it one hundred nigga what you really feeling An age when the odds of a black astronaut were astronomical We turned whips into spaceships Found a place in between a nightmare and a dream to build castles, don't mind if they makeshift Motherfucker we make shit Revolution's an industry, who the fuck makes it We can taste it Bitter like a fizz but I bet you go numb when the bass hit Born a bass head, it's a birthright Let it kick and ensnare in the first fight Grab the mic get the first slice spit a verse like it was life on the line in a hearse right behind her and waiting with doors ajar Shoot whatever it was sworn I'mma sport the car And skirt the block and watch for skirts And cop the gat and rock the ice and freeze the frame and trace the plot Embrace the end inevitable Endeavor to get the cheddar But never amenable Spit every letter with the tenor of a venerable boss on the backs of millions I don't look at the cost