Lyrics:
State Champs The Record

couldn't make this town our own (I'm keeping secrets) So good luck with being on your own. Watch what you say, Desperation might just take you to your grave. Let the record

cuts up* ) (Can you feel it) I make a rapper feel the pain, rap's my trade To kick a rhyme ain't nothin, the key's to get paid Before I made records

become a deportee So when you talk about you got checks Boy you must be in a club high off a x Cause cash that we got it ain't even in the states And

about the state of grace he's in. The champion has lost, what will the paper say about a man whose proven only to be a man. So for the record... It's

a deportee So when you talk about you got checks Boy you must be in a club high off a x Cause cash that we got it ain't even in the states And the cars