B4 the Documentary Dropped

[Verse 1: Sap]
Tick tock niggas time running out
Damn I don't hear people run their mouths
I swear we started with less than an inch
Now bitch I'm running miles
Know Sap got a hundred styles so who want it now
Young K-I-N-G please don't tip me
Only niggas who envy pockets be empty
How could you hint tease
Not hungry when I got phonies
Trying to put me down but I remain in my spot homies
Stop homie, this is a greatest of all time spot only
Hit records on my old laptop does not arm it like fuck it
Make new shit that make you sick
Throwing shots and think you slick it's plain stupid
You can't do this without being a barbarian
Kill every verse my beats is where the bars get buried in
I'm marrying the craft, each year I'm renewing my vows
Every day a new bitch ruin my towels

[Verse 2: The Game]
I was working the block
Little nigga I was signed to the rock
Not Hov and Bigs the [?] was big, my row was big
Momma banging on my door, bitch the stove my gig
Used to cook at Chef Boyardee
Chop and roll up tree, enough weight to fit a new RV
Never imagined my path would be to music
Had a ball and a nine because nigga I could shoot it
The bloods recruiting, USC recruiting
All the while I'm in the streets recouping
Got barbecue washing my coupe
Fiends all in my coupe
Banging Biggie "Bitch Give Me the Loot"
Repping the letter B, they said I would never be
The King of anything but the methamphetamines
They was praying for my downfall
Praying that my heart stopped way back before The Documentary dropped