[Verse 1: Brenton Brown]

The mic's my sword of omens
I see them haters from way off
You thinking I'mma quit
I'm hoping you'll take a day off
I'm not down for schemes and y'all n***as looking like Madoff
If this was based on work then you motherfuckers be laid off
Lynch mob to rappers, man I'm killing you n***as
And yeah I'm aiming for the top simply gripping the trigger
Because all I want is fame
Become a household name
And I do it without the gimmicks you con-artists are lame
On the road to riches you be making stops, I'm on that easy pass
Getting cheese ain't hard, that's why I call that shit easy mac
I have everything you lack
Yet you don't have a thing that I need
I'm moving like lightning fast
You n***as on that dial-up speed
Honor roll, I'm on a roll and everything is great
Cause I'm coming for your spot
Cause y'all n***as can't push the weight
I raise my bars
And feel the hate
Then rise above
Levitate
[Hook: Brenton Brown]

Man, I do this better than any n***a you'll ever know
You work harder, I work smarter, guess who's about to blow
I'm about to take this game to levels they said it couldn't go
If you fucking with me throw your hands up and lemme know
Ay, lemme know
Ay, lemme know
If you fucking with me throw your hands up and lemme know
Ay, lemme know
Ay, lemme know
If you fucking with me throw your hands up and lemme know

[Verse 2: Brenton Brown]

Cartoon network game
This Thundercat is rebooted
I swear that I'm the shit
Yet you n***as asking who pooted
I'm lyrically advanced
I'm sorry you can't compute it
Captain Planet making music
Your tracks are looking polluted
Lemme clean it up
Whiskey to the face, beam me up
Asking for a free CD, alright homie you see these nuts
Keep a tight circle
There's only so many I can trust
These girls say they love me but I know that it's purely lust
So I give them cab fare homie, and a quicker fuck
I'm just tryna blow up and separate from the duds
Most rappers are washed up and I can still see the suds
Salty n***as throwing shots cause they failed the test
Where many of 'em failed on my road I only see success
A lot of people claiming that I cannot be the best
But I've got Kevin Hart fans that's tell you say it wit' ya chest, n***a!

[Hook: Brenton Brown]

Man I do this better than any n***a you'll ever know
You work harder I work smarter guess who's about to blow
I'm about to take this game to levels that it couldn't go
If you fucking with me throw ya hands up and lemme know
Ay, lemme know
Ay, lemme know
If you fucking with me throw ya hands up and lemme know
Ay, lemme know
Ay, lemme know
If you fucking with me throw ya hands up and lemme know

[Verse 3: GhostWridah]

Nothing new
N***a this is what I do
I swear I'm doing great homie
How about you
And how they doubt you
When you better than the best out
Hey quitting that'll be ya best route
Walking with my chest out
Flex on a fuck, boy
Bottles of that gold shit
I need me a cup, boy
N***as know I'm cut for it
Somewhere in the cut
Blowing good
Got a wifey but it's hard to keep these sluts off my wood
No buts or excuses
Unless she's got a butt then it's deuces
I'm blowing all this green n***a mucus
Spitting like I'm toothless
Living like I'm Oprah
I define change no diggin in the sofa
Me lose? No sir
Everyday I toast up
Used to dream bout it
Just recently I woke up
And Chuck told me treat it like my last
So I'm writing like that goddamn Reaper on my ass
Hold up!
[Hook: Brenton Brown]

Man I do this better than any n***a you'll ever know
You work harder I work smarter guess who's about to blow
I'm about to take this game to levels they said it couldn't go
If you fucking with me throw ya hands up and lemme know
Ay, lemme know
Ay, lemme know
If you fucking with me throw ya hands up and lemme know