Regular and Complex (GNB)

[Verse 1: Zombie Juice] Welcome to my world Visions like my mind on a thin wire Struggle but I'm here Still high like it's no fear Tip toe like a ballerina You can't see me, John Cena Play my cards with a poker face Sometimes I feel like the only race Racing, speeding, still hungry like I ain't eating Call it even, a spade a spade Some want the hoes, but I live in the shade Palm trees, fronto, Bob Marley, I'm the dutch master I'll box you, boy, like Cassius Put 'em in a casket like the Taker 21-and-0 on you haters, twenty-one O's Step up in the building, somethin' like Elvis I'm 'bout to re-up, this here better than my last Immortal, dog, living through all of y'all Treat this shit like my only child, son of God Calculate my visions, what I want is how I'm living You might win some, but you just lost one This beat here banging, Erick Arc, son If you double cross, you hit the floor, Allen I-son [Chorus: Meechy Darko & Erick Arc Elliot] Young, dumb motherfucker, life's guns and butter My grandpop still make that crack rock bubble Tell karma I love her, been a real good motherfucker So she bless us with pussy, drugs, and money I ride for my dogs, get high with my dogs Real niggas won't snitch, don't abide by the law Blowing loud on the porch, Makaveli on my thoughts How many real niggas'll be down for the cause? [Verse 2: Erick Arc Elliot] Some days are made for reminiscing Drug dealers with no product or pot to even piss in Permission by granted God we see Allah Molecules, minuscule, and regardless who you are You a part of early stardom I believe we all achieve in the eyes of martyrs, never a problem Hearts fall apart, so I stitched mine Quick to choke a nigga, I be tryna bitch mine Shorty sweet like clementine I rap for the niggas that make beats, but never get to shine, shine Hey, Vinyl Blue in Green, Miles Davis CDs I compose my sixteens before eighty-eight keys The first time I did drugs, it was making the beats MPC bang my head, it even haunts me in sleep Everybody's a snake, that's why I try to keep the grass cut See it when it coming, then I heat they ass up [Chorus: Meechy Darko & Erick Arc Elliot] Young, dumb motherfucker, life's guns and butter My grandpop still make that crack rock bubble Tell karma I love her, been a real good motherfucker So she bless us with pussy, drugs, and money I ride for my dogs, get high with my dogs Real niggas won't snitch, don't abide by the law Blowing loud on the porch, Makaveli on my thoughts How many real niggas'll be down for the cause? [Verse 3: Meechy Darko] If rap was illegal, you bitch niggas wouldn't even write a bar Shit, I'd probably be behind bars Raising the bar through these bars I am at the bar Taking shots of Henny, telling the bartender 'bout all of my flaws I'm in love with hip-hop, not from the allure I am sure, every single dog gets its day on the cross No label telling me fables, bitch, I am my own boss Stoned off Triple OG, watch me zone off Supreme entity, public enemy Energy that I'm harvesting in pursuit of the riches I want more green than them army men figures So much 'shrooms and acid that my thoughts are tangled and twisted like gangbanger fingers Right before they flick on the trigger and dismantle your ligaments Metal fragments'll hit you, so many holes in a nigga That when the wind blow, he whistles Bet that I could read your mental With my finger on temple And learn the deepest, darkest secrets that your shadow will tell you 'Cause you heard that I'm a better beast and stay close to the J like I'm Emory And if your eyes ain't bloodshot, you need to get some better weed Screaming, what the bloodclot? Shotty in a stolen V Follow the law? I don't even follow the lord Flexing like I just shot up a bottle of 'roids Sexing bad exotic chick on top of your boy Chip on my shoulder, only if chips involved, motherfucker [Outro] I see you got yourself a little business going Well, that's good, that's good, you make that paper But when you making paper, but when you making paper you gotta learn some rules to go with it You gotta learn the difference between guns and butter There are two types of niggas in this world, there are niggas with guns and niggas with butter Now, what are guns? The guns, that's the real estate, the stocks and bonds, artwork You know, shit that appreciates with value What's the butter? Cars, clothes, jewelry, all that other bullshit that don't mean shit after you buy it That's what it's all about, guns and butter, baby You little dumb motherfuckers