[Verse 1] Double K
One, I'm unexplainable, but able to rip
You got some way to go before you even handle this
Two ways to understand the formula is don't trying it
Saying in ways, my paving it, nigga, I can't deny it
Three verses to my one, and two niggas to your camp
Squares living undercover, and you trying to diss the champ
Four-wheel rapping over broke beats uphill
Trucking like an old-timer with a rival to kill
The five star deputy loc, watch the smoke, choke
Every rapper in the place, taking music for a joke
Six seconds minus five to keep the burner alive
So when it's time to gat 'em up, only the K survives
Seven times eleven was the year Mike Will dropped
Twenty-four years later, and I still can't be stopped
Eight's enough and late's enough, will be the time that I return
Coming back to claim rap, catch me chilling on perv
[Verse 2] Thes One
Yo, the P take the weight like a pulley, hooking and slinging
Los Angelino bullies rapping, not seeing
Meaning flaps to non-fiending to a soft land and
Taking props like a principal cops a Walkman (to all mine)
I assign rhymes to the culture like enzymes
To erase the Alzheims, they remember my odd lines
Scribed in vibes on wax, then off tracks
They repeat 'em or copy like fax (he's a fighter, man)
It's tighter than what he could write on his own
Sitting alone with some headphones on his dome
With his mom yelling, "turn the beat down" ("Turn that shit down!")
In the background, slapping wack sounds, send him back to his town
To catch a one-way pass, a Cambridge sound clash
They burn like hash, I take the cash and dash
Spread the love like a rash, I'm irrational
Messing with a Latino, so national
I fly anywhere on a thirty-three cent stamp
And spread plates in my field like a discus champ
Distance champ, I'm undisputed even when I do it
Double K send a chorus forward, you'll pursue it
One, I'm unexplainable, but able to rip
You got some way to go before you even handle this
Two ways to understand the formula is don't trying it
Saying in ways, my paving it, nigga, I can't deny it
Three verses to my one, and two niggas to your camp
Squares living undercover, and you trying to diss the champ
Four-wheel rapping over broke beats uphill
Trucking like an old-timer with a rival to kill
The five star deputy loc, watch the smoke, choke
Every rapper in the place, taking music for a joke
Six seconds minus five to keep the burner alive
So when it's time to gat 'em up, only the K survives
Seven times eleven was the year Mike Will dropped
Twenty-four years later, and I still can't be stopped
Eight's enough and late's enough, will be the time that I return
Coming back to claim rap, catch me chilling on perv
[Verse 2] Thes One
Yo, the P take the weight like a pulley, hooking and slinging
Los Angelino bullies rapping, not seeing
Meaning flaps to non-fiending to a soft land and
Taking props like a principal cops a Walkman (to all mine)
I assign rhymes to the culture like enzymes
To erase the Alzheims, they remember my odd lines
Scribed in vibes on wax, then off tracks
They repeat 'em or copy like fax (he's a fighter, man)
It's tighter than what he could write on his own
Sitting alone with some headphones on his dome
With his mom yelling, "turn the beat down" ("Turn that shit down!")
In the background, slapping wack sounds, send him back to his town
To catch a one-way pass, a Cambridge sound clash
They burn like hash, I take the cash and dash
Spread the love like a rash, I'm irrational
Messing with a Latino, so national
I fly anywhere on a thirty-three cent stamp
And spread plates in my field like a discus champ
Distance champ, I'm undisputed even when I do it
Double K send a chorus forward, you'll pursue it
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