[Cass] I got radar vision. Thinkin' they can fuck wit' me, they are trippin'. I got AR lyrics. I stay hard, liftin'. I make art visions like I ate carcasses. Raise partitions. Drive me to the spot and don't take no shit, it's Shake. Parkinson's, encased his heart in a case wit' barbed fences. Escaped hard sentences and take barbiturates.

[JP Cali Smoov] Wait... they say y’all bully, I'ma pull up and make y’all pull it, Brought a real gun, load an AR fully. It's not a metaphor, these are AR Bulletz. AR Bulletz? Take off hoodies, I'ma walk dog to the graveyard wit' us. Pull a sawed-off or da chainsaw on us, I get to treatin' paintballs like they AR bulletz.

[Cass] It's a minefield. Step on the wrong spot and get dropped, talk to the pineal. See ya whole life flash, hit 'em wit' a time stamp, Wish I was a wise ass, tell 'em, “Bitch, you like that?” You don't wanna try Cass, I like a lil fight back, Bitch, I'm wit' Smoov, no rules, triple bypass. Thought I couldn’t do it, but I fly past— Wit' my high ass, lie back wit' an ice pack.

[JP Cali Smoov] Slide back wit' a nice pack, I've been gettin' wit' tha groupies who don’t like rap. I'ma break hoe back like an ice pack, Had to FaceTime like an iPad, I be lightin' up her room like a nightstand. My flow is super, Roy Jones Jr. wit' an ounce of Kunta. In Nova Scotia they know Smoov and quote the movement.

[Cass] I'm like a fuckin' virus. If you get close to me, I'ma get inside ya. Grew up too punk, dumb and too drunk, Fuck who wants it, I'm all screwed up, Drug abused up, I would lose touch, My medulla fuckin' bruised up. Came in the game like the fuckin' Buddha, Knew I had to believe if I wanted to do stuff.

[JP Cali Smoov] The flyest an' flashiest outfits extravagant, Left high school and the streets made me learn calculus. Cuttin' wholes to halves in the basement where I was baggin' it, Kobe Bryant pressure, only difference is I’m travelin'.

[Cass] I listen to my sixth sense, Bitch, I got a house wit' a big fence. I'm loud and won’t sit on the bench, I gets down like I'm drowsy, a little bit bent. The crowd is innocent, Sprayin' lyrical rounds, whoever around, Y’all getting fuckin' mowed down. I don't give a shit, It's America, get out when you hear the shit.