Reputation

[Verse 1: Guilty Simpson] Peace to the home team, my peoples do they own thing They letting more than a phone ring We put the world on wheels the Motor City, baby The big three, original shit; they bit the whole thing Gold rings, Carti frames, iced chains, all of that Crisp And Ones, the fourth letter on the ball caps I'm talking that realest on the map shit I'm from Detroit, so the raps fit I'm from where you gotta earn as far as the block's concerned The rubber they burn in Cadillac whips Been through more shit than catfish Home of the Amazon big-body black chick Detroit, the city's got a wild rep That explains why over seven hundred thou left But the industry tends to follow the trends The same motherfuckers from the Mile set Yes [Hook] Get up your rep, your reputation Stick around [Verse 2: Guilty Simpson] Cold winters, hot summers Murders in high numbers Enemies tuck tails and hide from us But love to the glove, it's Michigan pride Where they choose to flip a pie, then give him a ride Cause he can't survive on nickels and dimes So a lot goes inside sticking to crime Pulling homicides off liquor and limes Still the crooked swine put clips in your mind All the while, they getting them blind Ice brightless, chilling the time Hustlers, but quick to turn gangsters Whenever motherfuckers'll give 'em a sign I earned stripes and got my scars Some wonder honestly how I got so far I'm like, damn, how could you not go hard? The top is ours, and I'm driven for mine Let's go [Hook]