[Produced by Mr. Len]

[Verse 1: Jean Grae]

Bank on the best
Who drop it like an Acme anvil-lain
Freeze your chest to leave you breathing ill

How about Jean and a fifth of Nyquil in ya
Grilling my perimeter
^!$$%s exposed see who pulls and falls I ain't feeling ya

Told y'all I'm proof two-oh-oh
Hotter than the diaphragms of twenty (*##$es backstage with chlamydia
Snot-nosed punks I'm that deranged chick

No Range no whip -- same for all the ^!$$%s I hang with
I'm a pen-holding gold-rocking 40-swigging ^!$$%
Figure me out maneuver me sue me for getting into ya

Sting like another word for the cops
Zen master classes held on the wax
Your homework is playback

Pro-black and anti-(*##$ anti-snitch
Mic cords is whips trains is fours fives and sixes
And no Benz and $#&@ friends I'll be the last chick standing

Wait nah $#&@ that -- bring at least one man in

[Hook: Murs]

Say what ^!$$%?
Speak up I can't hear you
Look me in my eyes if you feel that I should see you

Still drunk from last night
Buzzing off my last fight
What if I turned around and quickly whipped your $$#?

I'd be right

[Verse 2: Jean Grae]

Jean bench-press strength is a million and five strong
No henchmen yes-^!$$%s to survive on
Investment figures is little to ride on

No nine-to-five a nine to get live on
Live onstage like a Shante Roxanne
With men and some rock band

Mosh pits @@#!s and hands
I'm a mic addict type dramatical life
High gramatical status

Non-compatible non grata
No Prada no baby father
Out of place like Road Rules insider

Won't spill bottles of vodka
I'm prejudiced !@$(
Rule kill you with tender service

Eat the food and pass gas in your closed casket
I'll get my $$# kicked and talk %#@! while it's happening
Heard shots run to the side that ^!$$%s clapped in

I been punk been drunk been drugged but $#&@ it
Now I fight back
You could pull the vinyl from your backpack

(Oh right that's your gat; oh right I forgot)

[Hook]


[Verse 3: Jean Grae]
My type is wrong weight is thick

Height depends if I've been stumbling all night long
Write for songs like I'm hyped to hold the mic for throngs
Gather round rip down stages

Just to prove points
Made minimum wages for joints
And still blaze your boys

Stay poised when I'm flipping on your toy bull%#@!
No chips just %#@! in your face
Hate your moms take your arms

Make you watch all the rape scenes from Oz
Round of applause when you bound to fall and get tossed
Your high-floss high gloss and mega high beams

Strange it seems your daylight still ain't seeing me
New York representative I told you before
And the only way I like it is raw no pause