Verse 1:
Life is a struggle so I hustle with the strength of an army
I'm at the crib making beats while you hang the party
I'm writing rhymes at the gig, this is the life that I live
But I'm making changes tryna get out of this cycle we're in
I'm not meant to be wasting my time, I should be blazing a dime
In the booth, spitting the truth with other faded minds
I stay aligned and part my life 50/50 down the middle
Cats at my job be so fickle
If I mention a turntable, they look at me sideways
Pull out an iPod, probably mention the Ice Age
Oh okay bitch, so I'm caveman status?
That must explain just why I spit just like a straight up savage
Plus your face looks like a head of cabbage
With a pair of glasses sitting slightly off axis
You can't grasp this, productions so classic
My co-workers say it's older than Johnny Cash when
I play my CD, never heard nothing like this before
Fuck it, should be used to this shit by now but no
I'm at the factory just dreaming about a stage
I'm fuckin' up anyone who tries to stand in my way
Gimme my check and let me hit the fucking door
I've got these records at the crib, you know they're laying on the floor
I'll be back next week, I just need some time alone
With my MPK, my pen and pad are overloading
Blowin' douja out the chillum, I'm willing to share it with ya
As long as you ain't Barney Fife or Ralph Wiggums
Can't be in a jail cell sitting for no dro
I've got these records at the crib, and I can't leave 'em alone

Hook:
No, cuz I can't leave em alone
I've got these records at the crib and I can't leave em alone
The reason why you probably didn't see me at that show
I dug deep last week, so I can't leave 'em alone
Yeah, cuz I can't leave em alone
The reason why I'm three months behind on my car note
They say make original beats, and I can, and they're cold
But I can't leave em alone, no I can't leave em alone

Verse 2:
Fuck it, I ain't needing this phone
Fuck human contact when I've got this stack of this gold
Forgotten treasures getting handed down to beat fiends
This one is packaged with some glasses that are 3D
Believe me, we be deep in the crevasses
It's like crack when the vinyl's on my fingertips
I've got a couple spots I've gotta use a paint mask
You might find a few gems, the rest are straight trash
Warped beyond belief with scratches, bent sleeves tho
Best believe we don't need those!
We ain't rookies, recognize I've been doing this shit for years
My pops raised me up right, he said he's proud of his kid
I flip thru records like I did when I was 2 or 3
The same way I did going thru puberty
The same way I did back when I was 18
The same way I will when I'm in my grave, G!

Hook