No Guts No Glory

[O.C.] Snowgoons... one two Heheahahaha, uhh Yeah? Yeah... Yo, feast your eyes, two double oh-five While two double oh-six is here My energy be for all to accept and hear I'm not ashamed for the ten years plus in that game, won't refrain O.C., speak my mind cause I ain't no lame Never defendin, creates my own lane Long live the saga, with a clear slate clear head these days Works for hire, possible if I'm prepaid Welcome me back, give a toast to my libido flow Similar to sex spurnt from my urethra Friction, give off heat like a fever Good lucks for those who wish, I don't need it Much to my amazement, or should I say that I'm not surprised I still reside in the basement Wits and charm is what bless this tongue Along with the mind state for me to write these songs Uhh [Hook: O.C. + Wordsworth] No pain, no gain, no guts, no glory This ain't another war story, this is trill My heart, my brain got the will to survive In my shoes, you wouldn't make it out alive, no These young rappers in the game ain't got nuttin for me This ain't another war story, this is trill My heart, my brain got the will to survive In my shoes, you wouldn't make it out alive, no [Reef the Lost Cauze] Dead in the middle of Germany, puffin herbally Observe me as I absurdably murder beats verbally to the third degree I ain't no nerd or freak, I'm the word, the streak That works Shareef, peace, nice to meet I need a, mic to eat, a track to bash Your shit is wack, it's trash, I just have to ask You just playin right? You can't be tryin I'll blow you the fuck away like a dandelion Be a man c'mon now, you can't be cryin My next album six figures or I shan't be signin I'm so independent I'll GO independent Get dough independent, I SMOKE independents The most mentally ill, so gifted and real, the spit that can kill Pick up the mic it's like I lift up the steel Aim it at your temple, now how that feel? It hurts like a motherfucker don't it? Now bow down and kneel [Hook] [Rasco] Look, yo Man I'm back for it, it's the black poet Sit down spit rhymes just to get the stacks flowin You cats ain't knowin, man I'm back for revenge The real shit, never had to pretend Shatter your shins, nigga go and gather your ends Call your friends, forgivin you for all your sins It all begins, right here, makin it quite clear It's twenty-oh-six, make sure it's the right year To your right ear, or your left lobe Still swingin hard, then watch a nigga's chest fold Get this dress code, I spit the best flows No cat better than Ras to stack cheddar You all falsetto with no bass and no taste Bring it to you live at sunrise at yo' place I give 'em no space, we on a dough chase Niggas can't get it cause they movin at a slow pace [Hook] [Outro] Yeah, Dick Swan in the building Snowgoons, live