Collateral Ransom & Nicholas Craven (Ft. Ché Noir & Stove God Cooks)

[Intro: Ransom]
Let me take y'all on a little tour real quick
Walk with me

[Verse 1: Ransom]
You see that stove there? That's where I would get it on
The same stove my mom was cooking Thanksgiving dinner on
The same oven that when the heat was off, that shit was on
When the burners ain't work, we lit a tissue to click it on (Real shit)
What you know about having shootouts with six troopers?
Tried to search the vehicle, had a brick in some bitch Uber (Uh-huh)
Niggas singin', but I kept something heavy to Lyft Luther
Beat the case, a couple lawyers, two Jews like Smith-Schuster
I'm not your homie, I don't know y'all
Don't wanna hear your stories 'bout your plug duckin' the Coast Guard
My shooters on the bench, just pray to God that they don't start
"Ran, you should be an actor," I was, in front the parole board
Now I'm Marty from Ozark obtaining wealth (Wealth)
I used to piss on the floor when they was raidin' cells
My brother was worse than me 'cause he was raised in jail
Mama gave birth to demons, now she raisin' hell
Know you feel the pain as well
Weight is off, blame the scale (Yeah)
Got niggas rollin' in deep, but nah, this ain't Adele
Stay the course, plain as Braille
Faint of heart, sacred tales
I brought the Sig on stage like I was Dave Chappelle
And I aim it well
They ain't have to live this grind (Nah)
We used to fight at the table when it was dinner time
Now my drink got a twist of lime
Who you niggas foolin'? (Who?)
'Cause we ain't got a bit of time
You didn't run wit' us, but now you here at the finish line