[Mystic Blu]
Oooh, when are you gonna let it go? We never gon’ know. Hmmm
Niggas think they Too Cool, but look at them, though. Heyyy
Because your ass is so damn prideful, it must be compensation
Wait up, look-it here
Who you think you’re foolin’

[RoQy TyRaiD]
I’m from the land of conservative politicians, discriminating bills/
Shitty sports organizations, a morgue for entertainers/
The cost of living is permissive of commissions that wane/
‘Til they’re devoid of finding options, a glorified hospice/
Forgot who the hell they is/
‘Til niggas fall off harder than Tony Scott off an LA bridge/
Hostin’ local shows for preservation/
Lowered expectation, you should’ve chose a form of education/
Success run dry, denials ugly/
Relive your glory days at Polk High, you Al Bundy/
That’s why you’re miserable/
Tryin hard to look like he live above y’all/
Type of nigga think he ballin’ with a Rush Card/
Twenty dollar jewelry that he discovered at a bus stop, niggas is duck sauce/
Instead of dissin’ young artists, you should try vibin’/
Your studio smell like moth balls and white diamonds/
Instead of passin’ the torch/
You spend your cash on that crap in the back of The Source/
That’s why your geriatric ass is lackin’ support/
Live off the merit of your pass, but ill-prepared to spaz/
For your success, an epitaph/
You’re like Morris Day, you let The Time define you/
Steady sit on your behind like the grind will find you/
Shout out to my veterans with integrity/
Your self-respect is a testament to your legacy/
UGH!
[Mystic Blu]
Oooh, when are you gonna let it go? We never gon’ know. Hmmm
Niggas think they Too Cool, but look at them, though. Heyyy
Because your ass is so damn prideful, it must be compensation
Wait up, look-it here
Who you think you’re foolin’

[RoQy TyRaiD]
You talked trash for years but now attempt to give me dap/
Because my team comprised of people who have actual careers/
You male groupies can go to hell. Don’t make me air you out/
This ain’t the Men’s Warehouse, get the fuck off my coattail/
Claim that you’re a thug, who’s earning change from slangin’ drugs/
And actin lame by runnin’ game on niggas’ famous, in the club/
Probably ask about his chain and what he drank to get his buzzed/
And droppin’ names to make it seem like you ain’t aimin’ for a plug/
Think you tough, but energetically pursue and try to best friend ‘em/
We ain’t by what you pull and who’s a fresh dresser/
Suggestin’ you’re procuring expenses.. SURE!/
You’re insecurer than a Tiger Woods text message/
Not only that, but your music suck/
Unfortunately for you, this “groupie love” ain’t redeemable at Best Westerns/
So stop standin’ by the guest entrance/
Behind every Million Dollar Broke Rapper’s a depressed nigga!/

[Mystic Blu]
Oooh, when are you gonna let it go? We never gon’ know. Hmmm
Niggas think they Too Cool, but look at them, though. Heyyy
Because your ass is so damn prideful, it must be compensation
Wait up, look-it here
Who you think you’re foolin’

Who you think you’re foolin’ (x3)
Niggas think they too cool (x2)
When are you going to let, let, let it gooo (x2)
Heeyyy, aye aye aye (x 3)
Hmmmmmm