[Intro: Son Rob & Greenbeardd]
A couple, a couple, a couple
Uh, yeah, uh
[Verse 1: Son Rob]
A couple hoes weak minded
A proud fuck and the raps define it
Hot as deep fried, wet 'em with my feet dry
Sly, they let him sneak by now they gotta rewind him
A proud fellow, you can tell it by the way he spit it
A loogie singeing shit, probably just a bit acidic
Nasty is the way he writ it, with a shot of penicillin
Listen, sip it like teens with the five percenters
A loss of chips have 'em scoffing at the kid with the talent for the shiznit
Pass him for a dimwit
Skinny got hands, punch your mans in my slim-fit suit
New coupe, time to get down to business
Rip shit with spit dope as fixes, elixirs and spliffs in the mixes
His gift is the width of his diction
Wrack you brain unraveling the wraps like Christmas

[Hook: Son Rob & Greenbeardd]
Niggas running from the block finna know we gon' plot on the man 'cause...
They fucking weak minded!
We been dealing with them opps, finna know we gon' drop on their mans 'cause...
They fuckin' Weak Minded!
Slow burn commence quick for the spurned and the split, let it hit...
'cause they fucking Weak Minded!
Couple thots look at him 'cause the bread right and sit in the mix... got them bitches Weak Minded!

[Verse 2: Greenbeardd]
I feel so omnipotent, scoping on these meager peasants with my eagle vision fuck out my presence boy, not in the same class nor the same division— I’m an upper-class you’s a sorry pigeon— got my Barrett cal I know you it here it pal cock and loaded here it loud making thunderous sound, (you) better listen, got inside you head don’t question precision my decision to light, It’s nothing like a titan when he’s aiming strike, acting up we got a chivalrous knight despite his ass-pipe bout too ignite, fight night we in the right mood its about get hype I might let you off the hook with a vigorous bite— bare niggas on sight drinking Kool-aid and sprite, why be so uptight when you’re a mere sacrifice. Mike Tyson ego enticing little mice on Skype got a gripe with them crackheads smoking on pipe

[Hook: Son Rob & Greenbeardd]
Niggas running from the block finna know we gon' plot on the man 'cause...
They fucking weak minded!
We been dealing with them opps, finna know we gon' drop on their mans 'cause...
They fuckin' Weak Minded!
Slow burn commence quick for the spurned and the split, let it hit...
'cause they fucking Weak Minded!
Couple thots look at him 'cause the bread right and sit in the mix... got them bitches Weak Minded!

[Verse 3: Greenbeardd]
Punchline keep rolling up like Dempsey owning every single MC— personality shift swift in a split second I reckon you exploit on this momentary rift. You catch my drift (nah) I’m better than Sensui (Aight) You get me now (nah) nigga can’t sense me I’m that nigga with the nappy twist with them chappy lips in the hidden mist you is vision-less. You better run I never hit a miss check my KD when I’m in the zone better than Curry bury you deep in the soil in a hurry foil all you deadbeat plan in a hot minute. (minute minute).You from the past I advise you take your clock and spin it, counter clock wise if your mental still in it Koga eating gourmet food in the exhibit. While you’re eating insect ribbit ribbit

[Verse 4: Son Rob]
Wonder why you do this shit when Rob is fucking poppin'
Lofting rappers into coffins since the day them towers dropped, bitch
Run it like cross-fit, flow stay toxic
Ahead of the passengers following the cockpit
Locked in, drip tangy as the sauce dip
Nauseous, sick as rabies in the dog spit
Clocked in with a style as sweet as crocs is
Mothafucka's similes as empty as his pockets
Stomp 'em, stop it, snag a Glock and cock it
Posse in a caucus for the tape and when to drop it
A rotten flow that hurt as shoulders out the socket
With the burning rubber smell and the bloody tire possums
Raps flossy and style so awesome
Bigger than the belly that's carried by Bronson
Rocket verses, shit he 'bout to fuckin' launch 'em
Real fuckin' easy, used to seem so daunting

[Outro: Son Rob & Greenbeardd]
Raps flossy and style so awesome
Bigger than the belly that's carried by Bronson
Rocket verses, shit he 'bout to fuckin' launch 'em
Real fuckin' easy, used to seem so daunting