Stu Bangas & Vanderslice The Gusto (feat. Evidence, Roc Marciano, Apathy & The Alchemist)
[Verse 1: Apathy]
An outlaw dressed in black where the tumbleweeds and dust blow
Cut throats who cut blow and men of steel rust slow
U.F.O.'s float in the desert like smoke
Mothership, microchips get injected in my throat
All off the books, taxes implemented by the fascists
Got me lighting books of matches, burning cities down to ashes
Cause I ain't one for starving, they don't realize what they starting
I be carving Satan stars into they daughters for a carton
Of some cancer sticks steal Masonic manuscripts
Study lies and camera tricks
Shoot until the hammer clicks
Used to dance to Hammer's shit
Now I can barely handle shit
Writing with the candle lit
In concentration camps I sit
Where we burning dollar bills cause the heats more valuable
And whoever got the water and guns is the most powerful
They huff glue and puff 'dro
Sell my soul? F..ck no
The aftermath after cash, Ap's out for the gusto
[Hook: Roc Marciano]
Flier than ever, fry vanilla
Push 5's and better, cut pies like sellers
Tuck nines and side levers with side betters
Grind for letters, f..ck trying to drive lemons
Keep at least five in the denim it's a must though
Just know my G, I'm going for the gusto
Yeah, I'm going for the gusto
Just know my G, I'm going for the gusto
[Verse 2: Alchemist]
Ayo I scribe fly sentences, admire my businesses
Picture it, I'm twisting up sticks like black licorice
For cremation
Brick layer, lay the foundation
Cut without pasting, chef without the apron
Rappers come out their face we about face 'em
Cold case 'em, will need a blood hound to trace 'em
Push 'em off the planet, outer space 'em
Get it, show you how to lace 'em real loose like Timberland boots
Bigger than that man from Syracuse, verbal abuse
I'm on the loose
Bring all the troops, drink all the juice
Burn a bumbaclot drumstick, f..ck a turncoat that jump ship
I'm a legendary rapper, thunder clapper drum smith
The rebel chemist, fresher than a bed of lettuce
Paper chasing go where the bread is
Never take a shit where my head is
But trust on criminals
Spray paint my name on the walls with the Rusto
I'm out for the motherfucking gusto
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Evidence]
I'm a standout kid
I ain't scared to blow but won't go pop
And I don't sink to rhythms, I just stand on top
Yeah, work ethic up, soon I'm standing on plots
Who would've thought I went from futons and cots
To California Kings with a queen from Watts
See I always had bigger dreams than Koch
I always had to pull strings he's a loser
F..ck his little lines used up
I've been merchant dancing with the devil under pale moons
And feeling like it's braille on the wall I put a nail through
Feel it in the air so I never get compared to
Feeling like I'm dealing out a million and ain't scared to
Who doesn't feel Phil Collins?
Who is the new jack who ain't paying homage?
Who kept his promise with the Cats and Dogs?
I'm out to weather the storm without the stats and logs
I got the gusto
Talented, yes I'm gifted
Boosted, shopping carts of spray paint, lifted
Ruthless
Youth is something I ain't buying back
So I be on the grind and while I'm trying I be eyeing that
[Hook]