[Intro: Scru Face Jean]
These n***as don't get it
Aww man hahahahaha
You ready?
The Hit Brainiac

[Chorus: Scru Face Jean]
Hoooo, rrrra!
They don't even know you
But they gonna talk
And they gonna plot, like they gonna roast you
Cut you off, now I feel antisocial
I don't trust you dawg, now I feel antisocial
They don't even know you
But they gonna talk
And they gonna plot, like they gonna roast you
Cut you off, now I feel antisocial
I don't trust you dawg, now I feel antisocial

[Verse 1: Scru Face Jean]
N***as is snitches, let me get into specifics
For cut they would change their position
N***as be switching, turning they homies to victims
And biscuits can turn them into bitches
So that's why I'm wake and I won't get trapped in a prison
Then be forced to rap for a system
No cash or resistance will make mе attack one my n***as
I rather get lashеs from whipping
My passion is realer, quarterback's snapping for skrilla
The rest of you [?] I glass in the mirror
And there ain't chance that you iller, fuck it I dance at the villa
All by my lonely, only got a couple of roadies
[?] you action figure
Might have to slap a n***a, 'cause I ain't your rappin' n***a
Swallow your pride, you ain't all friends, that's a lie
You call everybody "Your guy"
And n***a that's why you don't got a soul that we ride
You really think they're on your side
Well I bet if I pulled your n***as to the side
And offered them money in piles and give 'em a nine
They probably would shoot at your spine
But huh you pro'ly still blind
[Chorus: Scru Face Jean]
Hoooo, rrrra!
They don't even know you
But they gonna talk
And they gonna plot, like they gonna roast you
Cut you off, now I feel antisocial
I don't trust you dawg, now I feel antisocial
They don't even know you
But they gonna talk
And they gonna plot, like they gonna roast you
Cut you off, now I feel antisocial
I don't trust you dawg, now I feel antisocial

[Verse 2: Tech N9ne]
I remember when I had a clique (Yeah!)
Like E-40 my blocka was thick, we hop in the whips
For the guap you blacking, then we poppin' the blick
You lost in the brick, in a coffin you get (brrraah)
Me and my partners we was droppin' the hits
Hella locking this biz, but it stopped and it sits
Nobody left as me I'm rocking it with
I don't feel like I'm still with the game (Nah!)
Prolly need to go back and on the block and bang (What?)
But I'm 'bout to be fifty, I'm in the house and be picky
'Bout going out and be iffy now with the fame (Aha!)
But I keep the .50 cal with me need be
Can't let the trippy louse hit me easily
Rip he now in thee ground if he seize me
My blicky style itching now quickly, hehe
Whatever reason I get caught deserted
But I'm three dimensional, so this thought's immersive
I don't know something from my lips brought the curses
Feeling like a preacher that done pissed off the church, mistaught the verses
It's far from the truth
I'm still the same, I'm still bringing you bars from the booth
My homie's missing, I'm feeling em barred from my roots
I never swallowed, instead it's a heart want to chew
No talking I'm feeling I'm anti-social
Back in the day really needed my n***as to stamp my vocals
No money can't buy the camaraderie
Never you can't buy, folks know
No matter how much we don't link up forever, I stand by rojo
[Chorus: Scru Face Jean]
Hoooo, rrrra!
They don't even know you
But they gonna talk
And they gonna plot, like they gonna roast you
Cut you off, now I feel antisocial
I trust you dawg, now I feel antisocial
They don't even know you
But they gonna talk
And they gonna plot, like they gonna roast you
Cut you off, now I feel antisocial
I trust you dawg, now I feel antisocial