[Verse 2][Trace]
Hand wrote, rap's art -call me Van Gogh,
quit runnin', stand slow, ya not Rambo,
life got ya ass broke, Ice got my hand froze,
cut the lights, now watch the hand glow,
that's why I have foes so I stand on hope now,
know how - put a hill in front of 'em like a snowplow,
It's evident we veterans, no rookie start,
so don't stick ya hand in my cookie jar,
I'm paid, gettin' green in many ways,
so we talkin' money and plenty haze,
Smokey got a grill, he spoils the teeth,
you walkin' around with tin-foil on ya teeth,
No need to front if ya stay true to yourself,
if you a liar then frontin' suits ya just well,
Trace can tell haters blast the becomin'
never fucked anyone over that aint had it comin'
