Digging niggas from graves, Baseworld, you crazy Niggas doing dirty work, man, cause we so lazy Can't fade me, Beezy B, I come change it You and your mom with guns put to your faces All your actions, make sure your hitting the pavement Your face is on the back of milk cartons, papers and pages I'm writing about you, my flow, nigga, that's shady But it's cool, nigga, I'm not smashing as hard as I can Give me two fucking years I'll be smashing niggas on bands And they call themselves rappers with tour buses be jags I call myself a rapper with the bus and I'm glad Never lose my Bay roots, it's Lil B I'm saying In low income apartments front rooms where I'm laying Niggas set me apart because I'm ahead of the rest I keep shooters with me, take your head and your vest Getting to the doctor, man, take the lead out his chest Good to be a silent man, this is the best If you want to be silent for good, take the blunt to the chest I guess, what the fuck with the asses on your head You're dead, God bless Dress up for the occasion Lil B, man Dress up for the occasion Put 'em in a suit