Vic Mensa, G Herbo, Taylor Benett And Nick Grant Drop Heat!

[Verse 1: Vic Mensa] Anti American hero, money printer, fuck the federal bureau The chain fresh to death, I'm a mummified pharaoh Had Virgil overnight these My off whites on fire like white people burnin' their Nikes Kaepernick called me, told me 'Just do it' They say 'Stay woke,' still slept with the rugers The only time you bear arms is in a wife beater, loser Your favorite rapper's a domestic abuser, ay Name a single Vic Mensa song *** we all know you won't live that long I don’t respect ****** posthumously Homicide ain’t new to me, catch up with Akademiks at your eulogy What could you do to me? I hate everybody including me Album didn't sell, fans are gettin' stale, how can I prevail? Still, deliver like Anthrax in the mail Take a deep breath, I'll see you in hell, brah [Verse 2: Taylor Bennett] Look, nowadays we play vinyl's The Richie kids always hate Lionel Cheap drinks so in sync with deep silence Used to greet violence with pink shiners and geek Viners Now these minus the real innovators and pathfinders Find myself in my deepest thoughts and my last writers Never take a second to count my blessings of past commas How I pass fires with pacifiers and not expire My new music sound like who's this and who's the writer? God done laced me with a gift, I hope you could decipher I ride waves and stargaze to keep writin' a bible I meet artists, sleep artists, I know when they callin' Add 'em up, yup, uh, picture me ballin' 40 chains and 40 rings [?] you want us The pressure's deep, I hold my breath 'cause [?] told me It's all about perception, rest and awaken that morning Speakin', even sleepin', even grievin' while others is mourning [Verse 3: G Herbo] A lot of shit I said I was ‘posed to did, I ain’t do it yet I flew in this bitch first class, I ain’t do a jet Belaire gave a nigga some cash, I don’t do Moet Everybody see a nigga paid, I ain’t full yet Bought six watches this year, I ain’t toured yet Niggas all waitin’ for the sauce, I ain’t pour it yet Just like you get the first back, it’s some more of that I’m on top of niggas on top like a 4 flat And we used to stand over niggas like doormats I got all these medals on me, I’m a war vet I’m proof 2Pac died, came back Who supplied everything that the game got? Who shot once, later on came back? Who your favorite rapper never got his chain snatched? Heard your favorite rapper went and bought his chain back Like a punishment, you tryin’ get your game back To wrap up, you tryin’ to get your name back Talk shit, fuck around, got aimed at Cocaine, 15, used to slang that 63 a day and you can’t get my main jack Southside told me these rappers, they pussy And real niggas last so fall back, we got a cushion I’m like yeah you right, I ain’t a killer, but don’t push me Damn, hand me that, I ain’t never had a fully Thousand dollar hoodie, uh, memory on all the time Real niggas all the time, soldiers all fall in line And I need a crib by the palm trees I’m tryin’ to wake up, feel the calm breeze Even though I’m already on freeze I got rollies and Audemars Ps Camera’s always on, I’m a star, freeze Camera’s always on, I’m a star, say cheese, uh [Verse 4: Nick Grant] All you niggas look like your skill don’t match your height You know it’s fake love when the views don’t match the likes I’m a mixture of good karma and bad advice I’m from the dirty where niggas ask for your casket price Got your bae watchin’, she’s a fan of my stuff Lips pokin’ out the coupe like Pamela’s bust See the snake in niggas’ eyes, she don’t gamble with love Still, she takin’ off the top like the manager cut Hey I’ma reign forever, it’s like a week for trial That shit was overheads, I get the check and bounce You lil’ niggas get embarrassed, can’t see my style It’s like the teacher made the class clown read aloud Hey this is it, boy, let’s get rich, what Ray Charles, see I’m shinin’, Money Mitch boy I from where niggas pull up on you with the shits boy Leave you underground like you couldn’t find a hit boy Ok the money’s cool, just make sure we evolve Screamin’ ‘fuck your wave,’ this is a scene from Jaws Your top five talk put me to sleep, I’m bored My nigga, me, me, me, me, me, that's all No disrespect, Nah I'm lyin' If it was really based on talent, you wouldn't survive it A nigga got his heart on his sleeve, how stylish Not disappointed, I'm just realer than niggas I admired Fire