The Battle of Little Bighorn

[Verse 1: RocSmoov] So how you gon' act like you last and we passing classes A actor of the highest pitch Perfecting clips from tech, missiles, Smith & Wessons Stand up for anything, any dream that's a achievable Evil Knievel speeding through Beast with Tools and Reason too, don't try to knock me I'm hard-headed, smart, grounded, heavy, just sometimes though Remember when I was young and broke, I used to steal out them corner stores Well I'm still broke, I guess I'm older Mess around and Robin Hood to feed the hood They robbing honey, sweet Christopher Robbins Cops in the street laying bodies out You think I ain't angry sucker? Bring out my inner Panther Cam, flashing lights, I give you cancer, seizures Me, 3rd, Chan, on the track, can you see us? But back to matters at my palm, world is in my hands I walk through the eye of the storm playing kick the can If lightening strikes, I'll be alright, my headphones blast My head on task, the 17th assassin Daily blasting. Taking all the trash, put it in a bag, fasten it, then burn it for the raptures You bastards all in your casket now catch them F.U.N. in your cranium, blessings [Hook: Irisz Invasion & You-C (RocSmoov)] No! We won't go. (We ain't going, we ain't going, we ain't going, yet) No! We won't go. (We ain't going, we ain't going, we ain't going, yet) No! We won't go. (We ain't going, we ain't going, we ain't going, yet) No! We won't go. (We ain't going, we ain't going, we ain't going, yet) [Verse 2: Mutiny] Ain't into sports or religion, but I catch blessings While I'm mobbing, making music, paper chasing, cooling Finessing on the high key Never bang, still on my 5 P's: Proper preparation, prevents poor performances That's my tune and fuck a chorus Recording at 4 in the morning, killed too many loose leaves Can't tell the forest from the trees, might need a mass funeral Get lifted off the holy smoke or ganja weed Letter to the world, I told them niggas "They gon' honor me." Not off beginners luck, cause nigga I don't believe in such It's like being scared of ghosts when I live amongst poverty Folks, Stones, and armed robberies Plus the blacks killing blacks and it's toxic Hooligan said, "these niggas rapping out of cereal boxes." Yo we could, box like a cubical More like a Rubix, don't meaning that there's better ways to solve it Still politics as usual, no matter who in office I be the shit, and ya'll just off it [Bridge: You-C] Now everybody from the 708, put your hands in the air if you feel so great Now everybody from the 773, put your hands in the air and come and ride with me Now everybody from the 312, put your hands in the air, come on ride you too Make some noise if you from the Chi Make some noise if you from the Chi [Hook:] [Verse 3: You-C] Killing rappers everywhere, that's the code that I live by My responses are very blunt and I don't even get high South suburban, so my words are deep fried I ain't no chicken, but I'll whip my dick out and let my cock fight I'm a mixture of AIDS and asparagus You other rappers hilarious, while I'm keeping it serious Seriously, I'm demanding respect without a tech or a Mac.11 Blasting to Heaven, while throwing down the number 7 I guess I'm unlucky or luck is just my opposite Compositive, so the negatives are equal to the positives I can't spit simplistic, when I vomit off a commit from outer space And I crash land into a town of mischief I guess I'm messing up, while throwing up the words that spew out my cranium I'm an alien, that backflips into saying shit My nuts are bigger than Lacey Duvalle's forehead Masturbating on a plane, hijacking it til we're all dead Feed them herpes like Slurpee's through a fucking straw Nigga, now tell these jerks that they can jerk off YEAGER!!! [Hook:]