Open Mic Night

Verse 1 [Packy Marciano]:
I move like pastors baby, pray with me
Lane Kiffin, face splitter
That pussy taste splendid, look
Cocaine the color of Blake Griffin
I lost my heart and became different
I’m truly sorry
I’m Mike Bibby or Mike Bivins
I like bitches that like bitches
These my scriptures of my addictions
Shootin’ star pressin’; bitch I’m Billy Kidman
It’s the fuckin' Catalina Wine Mixer

You tell me that you love me and that shit deceiving
Billy genius
I might fuck around and feed the fiends on Legion
In Top Ten Adidas; straight geekin’
I speak to God, and it ain’t briefly
Been through it all
I’m still beautiful; ain’t it glorious?
Jordan 6's; I’m gorgeous
I could have played for the Orioles
Yeah it’s me and the babies most importantly
Dabs got me speaking Portuguese out in Gordo’s room

Verse 2 [Skunkzz]:
Extraordinary gentleman, the league
Don’t breathe
You might miss a chance
To get a glance on tracks like this, uh
My spirit dance
Hey, shouts to Packy
Pack the burner
Pack it out like Nat Turner
Stat earner

I'm putting numbers all across the graph
I got 'em shook like, "how he doing that?"
Choppa swoop the cash looming
Shoot like Rashard Lewis from the three
Fuck with me, watch how the god do it
Throw a thunder-rod through a human
You just an undercard, forever fraud
Ay, I’m something you never saw
Taking off, I rap with legends
I do it for the world, past my section
I'm from Boston, but for Mass. I'm reppin'
Steppin' fast
The weapon gotta blast; hit a neutron
My suit strong
Kick ya ass out the kitchen, you missing
I put 'em on a milk carton
That's what you get for starting beats like this
I gotta kill 'em, starving
N****, you know that

Verse 3 [STEFAN THEV]:
Can I talk my shit again?
Even if I don’t hit again?
Offseason meetings plottin’ how I’m gon’ win again
Cascade my thoughts
Acid trips down in Michigan
The crowd cheerin’
But I’m not in their division
And I’m tired of numbers
Clearin’ the blur from they vision
Damn
That line for n****s back home
Sad to see they won’t love me till I’m dead and gone

They said, “shoot ya shot”
But they see me as a Cheddar Bob
But I fought the odds
Point the choppa at my demons; let it off
And tell them run my shit
Yeah run my shit, or -
I might just catch a body
I’m a one man army
I’m at work while you party
You jumpin’ ship like a Hardy
You missed your time
Boy you tardy, n****
Life throwin’ curveballs I hit; it’s a beauty
Corduroy on my bitch; the Sylvester is Looney