Connected

[Verse 1: Ea$y Money]

Ayo, I'm in the same city B.I.G screen

Chasing paper same color as the c’s team

No matter where I’m at on the map, I bleed green

Whole clique got dry skin, we need cream

Was on them streets eager to let them gats warm up

They told me I’d be much better as a rap performer

Getting hype on them tracks, than on them crack corners

'Cause cats'll put mics on your back & rat on ya

Getting your weight up, fiends you slinging death to 'em

Now you getting your weight you in the rec' room

Hitting them sets wishing that you could jet soon

May come around you ain’t going home till next June

Go ahead, keep scrambling for pennies

Imma do this rap till they hand over the benji’s

Enough talk about you handling a semi

We know ain’t no tucking them hammer in them skinnys

[Verse 2: Push!]

Don’t ask me 'bout no rappers

'Cause I don’t know no rappers

All these live niggas with me 'bout they business, nigga

No actors

We ghost busters, soul snatchers

Put cheese on your head, motherfucker, yeah, gold packets

We got bad table manners, wave toast at ya

Uh, fuck etiquette when it’s bread to get

Get resident evil for dead presidents

People, gloves on, loading lead in my eagle

And I can make a pelican fly when texting my people

I still got the work, you want it? Come holla, fam

Talking coke prices [?] port [?]

You can get it by the gram, still getting blow off

Till static call me to the studio to show off

Yo, Ea$y, this is easy money

Imma kill these birds fuck if they call P.E.T.A on me

[Verse 3:Wais P]

Call P.E.T.A

Matter of fact, call the animal shelter

'Cause I’m using full length minks in the winter for shelter

You ain’t get the memo? I put holes in your limo

Or you can pay what you owe and I put holes in your memo

Wais P the pimp, y'all niggas is trash

Receptacle rapping, basura bars, garbagé

Chain swing, wrist dancing when the light shine

Pinky ring in, talking with my hands like it’s fuck time

Watching she buy a pimp a house, shit

She gonna blow me anyways

Might as well put her money where her mouth is, ha

Ten thousand on the outfit, two hundred on the car

I ain’t a fraud, come check my garage

I’m living large, I ain’t got lie to rap hard

I just live my life, then I put it in bars

Musical massage menagerie fanatically

Giving you my reality

And I ‘all never lose battery, bitch

[Verse 4:Joey Bada$$]

Ooh, you gotta see him from blue collar season

Now he done blew and he at the coliseum

Niggas wanna be him, among supreme beings

Wanted a BMX last summer, now niggas wanna be him

That’s progress, but the BMF process don't sound as nonsense

As everything not since

Tell di bwoy dem, dem can’t contest

I’m ill behind the bars, you don’t know what’s on the card chest

Don’t need to take no shots to kill

A inner city nigga who faking his spot

To tell the truth, these niggas is just chasing twat

I rise to the top like Jamaican locs

Let the hating stop, they can never do that

Young prodigy came back to show you how to do rap

That "do that, do that

Do-do that-that-that"

That "do that, do that

Do-do that-that-that"