I can teach you tradition
Real Nigga, when I speak they gon' listen
Got life in prison, found peace in religion
But where was god at when you reached for the Smith-&

Cops playing Tic Tac Toe with your life
If you make the wrong move, might cross you off twice
How you still mixing lean with the sprite
Shit I know he like to gamble; but you really rolled the dice

I came a long way from, taping up the shoes so the toes don’t poke out
That’s the shit that they don't know bout
We went from the trapping out the dope house
To signing international contracts, and doing albums rollouts

What did you expect from me?
Everything that happened I predicted, and i do not say that regretfully
If I disappeared then, how you would remember be?

That answer is different
From person to person, but what would you say Kannon was missing
Besides for brand recognition
Because the way I been spitting
I feel like building a coffin, go and put rappers in it
Chalk them out of existence
Picture us on top, that’s a powerful image

Must be powder you sniffing
Because even the blind can see that ours is different
They tryna clock me and watch but I'm on a mission
Keep it cool, Iceman under pressure
There was palpable tension

I’m too old to beef with these young cats
There’ll be a body in the street and who wants that
Wrote my goals down; put it on my wall with a thumb tack
Check em off when I can say ‘I’ve done that’

(Hook)

Don’t fuck with me, there’s no bad blood
Is it me vs you, or is them vs us…
Or is it them vs us
Don’t fuck with me, there’s no bad blood
Is it me vs you, or is them vs us…
Or is it them vs us

(Roderick Douglass: Verse 2)

I’m too old to beef with these young cats
And they don't want the smoke they know I'm leaving they lungs black
It's deeper than boom bap I call this shit grunge rap
My name ring bells I'm Quasimodo the hunchback, now run that

From Albany to Ithaca, Binghamton to new burgh,
Buffalo to new Paltz I've gotten on a few nerves
Ruffled up a few feathers while flipping off a few birds
And shutting down a few blocks by shouting out a few words

WHOSE STREETS! Revenge sweet like Monte Cristo
And I'm known to hit the bullseye, but I manage when I miss tho
Was beefing with the cave, I swear the club was like a shit show
Til I chimed in and caused a panic at the disco (get it)

And this a two man crew
So what you dudes gon do
I'm always plotting like I'm Fu Manchu
So run ya jewelry, run your pockets, run you food stamps too
Cuz Real recognize real and we don't recognize YOU

And that's the problem with these corny fucking activists
They always down to preach but they ain't never down to practice shit
And when we in the projects or the streets they always missing
But I see them posting photos with these white ass politicians—make it make sense…

Or better yet just write another statement,
or report me to the manager, then call up my probation,
Get a order of protection from the rookies at the station
Yo you sure you niggaz Black cuz you be acting so Caucasian

I’m saying, I seen my own mamma die in front me
So It’s not fucking thing that you could do to ever punish me
Go head and take a run at me, it’s no bad blood
Whether it’s me vs you or if its them vs us