Cant Test My Crew Dot Rotten (Ft. Wiley)

[Verse 1: Dot Rotten]
I'm a crazy chap
Sitting down, contemplating whether lord made me black
If you owe me P's, you better pay me back
I won't be giving you lip, like a facety yack
Because I'll run up on the crib and I hype
But you run up with the chip for the stick with your lady
If you're coming for the fib
Then you might get gun up on the rib
When I flip, when I craze attack
I'm a crazy chap
Niggas say Bow when they see me
But I ain't from E3 like Maniac
Style and dream track
To deep this style for free on Bazooka beat
Now pay me back
Oh, what a sick flow
Don't get it twisted, I'm not a prick, no
My first big beat that hit the street
But da-dadada-da-da

[Chorus: Wiley]
Can't test my crew, nah, they're dreaming
Man might buss his head off the ceiling
Can't test my crew, nah, they're dreaming
Man might buss his head off the ceiling
Can't test my crew, nah, they're dreaming
Man might buss his head off the ceiling
Can't test my crew, nah, they're dreaming
Man might buss his head off the ceiling