| Yeah, yeah, this sound so rugged
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| No bliss, no glam, just that low budget
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| This sound so blunt, my own fam don’t want it
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| Print these low drums, man, I can’t flow on 'em
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| No worries, my man, I’m bout to go forward
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| Soon as you said 'no thanks', I had a song for it
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| I see fans sleepin', I see 'em see snoring
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| So nine outta ten, I’m takin' weed, overboardin'
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| Records ain’t sellin', all the stores closin'
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| Can’t make a livin' 'less you on that row touring
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| Fans singin' that the underground deserves explorin'
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| Cast used to bring the heat, now they all dormit
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| We don’t drop enough, they want it more often
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| It’s too water down, they want it more potent
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| It ain’t strong enough, they want more dosage
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| They want it uncut, I’ll leave them overdosing
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| I don’t want it all, just a small portion
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| Something cool with a view and a small office
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| It ain’t like I’mma really be there all that often
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| Pro’ly get Colorado chasin' broads, snow boardin'
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| While they Salt Lake ballin' like John Staten
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| Record shoppin', breakin' brand with the cool Mormons
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| I wanna look back and laugh at my own struggles
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| Things I used to trip about don’t even seem important
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| So till he get his, it’s gon' be hard to stop him
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| Even though he know it’s more money, more pro’lems
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| But for him it’s really more money, more options
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| Cause at least he can escape it all by goin' shoppin'
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| But we don’t drop enough, they want it more often
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| It’s too water down, they want it more potent
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| It ain’t strong enough, they want more dosage
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| They want it uncut, I’ll leave them overdosing |