Stay Scheming

[Verse 1: Illmaculate] The deadliest of the seven sins Is envy when they wish success for them instead of him I remember when my crew members let me in I told them "any beef is whatever, go ahead and send me in" Fuck it, you ain't gotta say the words Down to fly off the handle and probably make it worse But they happen to feel me, so They knew what they was doing, they drafted a killer, though That's why it's hands off every time All bets off, I'm spitting like I ain't never signed Getting mine through petty crime or selling rhymes Whatever pays, I never play with bread on line Person A complains they ain't even spend a dime Person B spending everything instead of time When love's fickle, reciprocate with a separate kind Keep business straight and personal feelings kept aside I know I'm preaching to the choir, I know I know the reason I'm inspired is my folks We off that drink and off that fire I smoke Feel my ceilings getting higher as time goes, I grow You had your time when you started buzzin' The rise and fall, the fans mature, and the artist doesn't But that's the part when karma comes in You don't feel that? It's probably hard to put your heart in something [Hook: Epp] Stay scheming You know we getting close to dough Talk shit, bitch ass, while you're looking at me You dreaming You know you wanna own it all Talk slick and my team will start clapping at you [Verse 2: OnlyOne] Boom boom clack, boom, boom, clack Instead of saying "Fuck the police" we shoot back Coast Guard choppers in the air again We all cargo heroin, they call it narcoterrorism Send Americans to the Middle East to rule it They play machine gun music: we produced it When they crash a plane into a building, you think it's ruthless? I'm just being truthful, we gave them the means to do it Some things is way too deep, I just can't seem to let them go Even the Feds could pull some shit like that, you never know They paper-shred secrets cause they're slave masters That's why everything I ever did was federal I cock the four-pound back in my ride Playing Pac-Man, the soundtrack to my life Call me Pac-Man, puffing on that Pakistan Fill a rubber trash can with a 20-pack, man Fuck the money and the power Take the chainsaw to you like Angel and cut you in the shower Bunch of blood money in the money counter Paper planes, we blowing up like a couple towers [Verse 3: Epp] That's something for you quarter-after-seven I rap as if I never plan to see the gates of heaven Well, before I die, I hope you feel me, though Look up at the sky and holla if you hear me, though I'm "Kobe" great, facilitate all my latest rhymes My nigga Bud got two bodies on him, then he do the time If you talk about it, then be about it, nigga Live our last days cause we can't take it with us Ill, load the bong... Only, roll the swisher It's getting ugly for you motherfuckers Act sweet, leave your body leaking, strawberry smucker's Look around you... didn't nobody touch ya That's bread and butter talk Get a white girl, nice box, booty butter soft Like the leather in a '84 Cutlass Supreme team, add a couple thousand to the budget Motherfucker [first half of hook]