Hook:
My style been dope.
My lines been dope.
My beats been dope.
My rhymes been dope.
My sound been dope.
My style been dope.
My flow been dope.
Man ya know it's been dope.
My style been dope.
My lines been dope.
My beats been dope.
My rhymes been dope.
My sound been dope.
My style been dope.
My flow been dope.
Man ya know it's been dope.

Verse One:
Now as I walk through the valley, of the shadow of death.
I take a look at all these rappers, god damn I'm blessed.
I ain't ever been fake, I ain't ever been lame.
I ain't ever had a corny rhyme come into my brain.
Talk about change, what you doing with the pen though?
Talk about violence, how ya pop another benzo?
Talk about the mula, but we knew the man been broke.
Killed his own brother now the karma coming ten fold.
Put a man in check, no respect for his kinfolk.
Want to make a difference, pay attention to ya pen stroke.
Man I swear to god it's like they know the man about to blow.
Keep it on the low, like that boy selling coke.
Man the underground, feel the ground shake as I run around.
808 quake, break beat make ya turn around.
Screaming fuck a feature I'm the leader, you a sucker now.
Breaking at ya feet, nice to meet ya.
I'm the underground.

Hook:
My style been dope.
My lines been dope.
My beats been dope.
My rhymes been dope.
My sound been dope.
My style been dope.
My flow been dope.
Man ya know it's been dope.
My style been dope.
My lines been dope.
My beats been dope.
My rhymes been dope.
My sound been dope.
My style been dope.
My flow been dope.
Man ya know it's been dope.

Verse Two:
From beginning to the end I like to bump it like a fender.
But I guess it just depends on what you fellas like to listen to.
Listen to my sentences. They took it in as ignorance.
They pinning us with insolence and labeled us the menaces.
Comprehend the differences.
Guess I'll play the nemesis, the bad guy.
Well rather that then the sad guy.
At least I got my balls dog, I'll never be that guy.
To sell his soul.
Riches, fame, and the gold.
Mind on his money, so he had to let it go.
See, you loose sight of mind when your focused on the dough.
I'm on another level. You ain't ever see me settle.
Keep your head on a bevel when your dealing with devil.
You can have that.
That's like playing with a gat.
Russian roulette every time you spit a track.
That's the death of you.
Smiling people put a hex on you.
And make your walk steeper, until the reaper take the breath from, and take you in.
Pay the price for your sins.
You didn't see it then, but your paying in the end.
See ya boy so cold, got you praying for some summer.
This is groundhog day, they just waiting for my come up.
Potential fulfilling is a beautiful feeling.
When I'm killing every beat in the booth like a villain.
I have em on they feet when the beats start peeling.
From the heat that I'm spitting.
Leave em sweet like a filling.
That bullshits for the birds.
That's why they tweetin.
Twiiter got a figure think he bigger when he beefing.
Itching like chigger just to bust a figure teeth.
Pounce like tiger, take a seat, now the beef end.
We in, going straight off the deep end.
Got ya mind thinkin. We can.
Get it to the weekend.
Make ya knees weaken.
We can.
Let's get it in to the weekend.

Hook:
My style been dope.
My lines been dope.
My beats been dope.
My rhymes been dope.
My sound been dope.
My style been dope.
My flow been dope.
Man ya know it's been dope.
My style been dope.
My lines been dope.
My beats been dope.
My rhymes been dope.
My sound been dope.
My style been dope.
My flow been dope.
Man ya know it's been dope.