[Hosts Commentary: Briggs]
Oh. My man P-della-ressure back at it again—Exclusive, son—with something to say. Ayy P, you look like you got something to say

[Scratches: [?]]
"Ayo my man" "Pressure—Pressure" "he got something to say"

[Verse: Pressure]
If every rapper get praise my best critic is me
It’s what they don’t say, go figure, [?]
Sinning to eat, no beef, bitter defeat
Three things I'll never taste at a gig I MC
Spit it on beats, P get the kids out their seats
'Cause I'm a standup guy that likes to think on his feet
See we set our own limits to reach
And we write our own songs till we're still and at peace with the deceased
That's why I bleed for everything I release
They take my name in vein like the sting of a leech
Never fit in a niche, pen and ink on the sheets
When they dissin’ I dismiss and scrape the grit from my cleats
Isn't it sweet? The first single listen they see
So stay silent like a child that won’t finger a priest
Pause, then applause for the king and his speech
A cause for the underdogs to sing in the streets
It goes

[Commentary: Drapht]
'Ello Golden Era. This is your pal Mr D-Rapht here. Making me look like scrooge here bro. Fucking Golden Era!
[Scratches/Segue: [?]]
"Ayo my man" "Suffa" "he got something to say"