[Intro: Jay Z]
Nothing has gone as you predicted
I move with biscuits, stop the heart of niggas acting too suspicious
This is food for thought -- you do the dishes

[Verse: Crooked I]
Okay
Food for thought you do the dishes
I’m taking mental inventory as I manoeuvre through this business
Keeping track of who pretenders, who relentless
Who stupid and too pretentious to see
That fucking with me is uber senseless
Don’t let the jewellery and the True Religions fool you
I’m a product of Nas' It Was Written
When the truth is spittin' the student listens
My new commitment is to nuke a shipment
Of niggas yelling they lyricists, you super ign'ant
Bullet through the pigment
I'm through predicting, rappers too restricted
Even if I go wood, I still get green
My rap is eucalyptic, I say what the fuck I mean
When the beat bump, I get pro-active
But I never go commercial for the cream
When I was flat broke this the vision I seen
I had a dream and a shack like O’Neal versus Hakeem
Now Eminem is the Rap God and Crooked is the verse Lord
And Shady Records valeting you rappers' hearse at the first floor
I’m stabbing you with a curved sword, slicing like an umbilical birth cord
'til all of your wounds are deep as the Earth's core
‘cause you fucking up hip-hop and
Niggas making money they don’t want make no waves but fuck
That I rap on a surf board, I'm gnarly, gnarly
So they want me to weigh in on Lord Jamar & Yelawolf
But Crooked from the ghetto, look
I'd rather weigh in on Renisha McBride
She was in a car accident her cell battery died
She knocked on the door for some help
But the person inside decided to load up his shotgun
Shot her in the head, somebody daughter dead
And, err, I really don’t think your discussion is close
Put it in a rhyme ‘cause my niggas don’t read the Huffington Post
They selling kush in the weed spot, nickels in a D spot
'Til they get locked and need a couple dollars on their green dot
And me? I’m just realer than every rapper that seem hot
I know they pussy homie, they ho' just showed me the screenshot
But never mind them, let me speak into the speaker
Staring at the studio walls, I'm really just reachin' for the ether
When niggas say I’m the best they really just preachin' to the preacher
If you not a fan of me now, watch how I seat you in the bleachers
The beast of Long Beach, don't make me feed you to the creatures
For the dough and cheese, the mo' Gs eat you like some pizza
Eat you like a piece of quiche and leave you in pieces in the freezer
The streets is opposite Jesus, it’s all hail like Caesar
That’s why I keep a heavy squeezer!
To cancel Christmas, Ebeneezer