[Verse 1: Qon Vince]
Its my mind, Its the time
Its the rewind, Its the dime
Its the catch, Its the change
Its the stretch, Its the strange
Its the weird, Its the feared
Its all the differences, the taught preferences
Its the priceless
Replaced by you asking what the price is
Its how the dice is, And how the mice is
Its the chase, for cheese
The race of these, the pace of ease
That tends to erase keys
A lot to be moved to get heard
Its that fly shit, no bird
Its that dry shit, no word
To describe, beside, absurd
Its the for sho
With nothing for sure'd
Its how the popo
The fuzz, the furred
Its the dolo
Its the way the world works
For real dough
King me an get served, just to say so
Money cause what I get, I deserved money, cheese, and peso
Cause of the fall off
The get up, the set off
The step up, the walk off
The hell yup, the talk of
The sell up, the way above
The swell up, Just waiting for a shove
Like the well yup
Even if there's no love
Its the what's up, the hell know
The fucks up, the you "no"
Its cause my lucks down though
Don't give to fucks, how'd it sound bro
Its the struggle, Its the strive
Its the juggle, Its the hive
Its the jungle, Its "how to survive?"
Its being humble, But saying fuck it, I've arrived
Its the stumble, Its how the cookie crumble
Its how the I feel when the sun low
Its why a barrel is smoking gun though
Its why if u give up your done fo'
Its why your hearing this dumbo
Like what the fuck did you come fo'
Honestly u didn't want it honest though
But that's how it in when Qon in this yo
Its the first shot, the last chance
Its worst if not, you don't use your last dance
Its the blow up, I got what I got
Its the slow up, like why are you hot?
Its the glow up, like lights in the spot
Its the flow up, nights of pot
Its the go up, at least that's the plot
When I show up, beast in the spot
Its the problem, Its like w t f
Its the condemn, Its that last breathe
Its the zen, Its the meth
Its the pen, I'm the chef
Here it is again, Check the left
If you thinking u going right
Take a guess, Or you just might
Run into stress, A.K.A. that mind fight
So no thinking less, Pull the string of that kite
Your life and your mess, So with mine I write
No stress, atmosphere is here, no bite, and no less
