Fitta Happier

[Verse 1: Guilty Simpson] I'm a fugitive running from my past How long will freedom last I'm swinging knuckles of brass Motivated, hustle for cash I'm puffing the hash Leave a rapper on the ground with his jugular slashed And laugh at him, it's humorous A lot of emcees got one style, me I got numerous I stand out so nobody's confusing us I'm way better, cold winners, beige leathers Black pistols, red eyes, blue jeans White widow, caked up, new green Travel across borders, across water Being short on my cashflow is a tall order Your style shallow like fountains where they toss quarters Wishing away to be the pick of the day When motherfuckers would care to hear the shit that you say On show day you couldn't give the tickets away Lose lose [Verse 2: MED] I step through the door Sharper than a blade from a mower Success, you more like the pitch of a four What a mess I ain't gotta brag when I double cash Come easy like a breezy with a treble pass Still by popular demand Return like a shirt when you wore it with a tag Still clown in the C-U-T Eyes low, Tae Bo, no S-U-V CA to the D what up, talk shit The shoe fit, equipped, get your toungue shoestring, damn Stay sound as I crack jaws You lock doors, we break through the bores in the drywall By far we a highlight You an extra, catch shade from the spotlight, right No pressure, respect, just the best To headline the field like rent from your next check M.E.D