Lyrics:

Not for Nothin’ (ft. E-Dot, Loer Velocity, and Donnan Links) ft. Mr. Complex - “Eye Opener”

It’s fucked up. Yeah. Uh huh. Yeah

Yo, I put words together like fixed marriages
They learn to love. I would never choose for myself like asparagus
Or pink shirts. The stink lurks. Shake the pen, the ink works. Distinct works
Throughout the studio. You came to spit
And your flow was like an open doodie hole. It’s bugged
You thugs, you wear butt plugs. You should go swear
And hug lug nuts. I don't rhyme about
Rims or ice or gyms or gators. I’m much more
Like one dinner plate but two kind of potaters
Yo, I used to be nice but now I’m cold and frigid
You worthless, defeating the purpose, you tall midget
You backseat driver, you’re stopped off bullshit
You present past tense. Here, the future’s fucked up
I’m convinced

Yo, run for your, run for your, run for
Your life ‘cause I’m after it. I dispose
Of foes, spit a slang that’s accurate. I’ma hit
You hoes—forceful bang crash your whip
Resourceful, man, paranoid, clapping shit
Tell your girl, “Shut the fuck up,” or slap the bitch
Niggas stay stuck up the buzz of hash and clips
Where a ten dollar bill copped an acid trip
I speak the truth like twenty-one bids and a half a fifth
I wear many hats: one is emcee, two is activist
Three is any trade—it’s true I’m the jack of it
And I ain’t rapping if I don’t have flavor
I’m dope like Quran but I’ma tell you ‘bout it later
I’m a TingTryer, bring fire for the haters
I am the hip hop where pussy is the players
And I’ll stay playing, stay spraying
‘Plex with the assist and E-Dot is overlaying
I’m saying

]
: I mean, my aim and my goal is to make good music. (Why?). My first outlet was this circuit, underground or whatever that shit is right here. (When you feeling good), I don’t, I don’t think that I deal with makes music on some underground shit, you know what I mean?

You could say
I’m sort of water, fluid, running through it
You could say I’m way unconventional and truant
The principle and main factor: the rhythm
Dips and feels like it’s on a La-Z-Boy relaxing
You could say the master of ceremony
Conduct and orchestrate, gain in matrimony
Testimony, you can say, a hush factor
But I don’t mean to lecture, homie
You know me. The blindside and fisticuff
Got you unaware Velocity’s shifting up
Ripping up the year, box hot, metal grinding
The force of love and the loss of it colliding
The rise in high tides, eyes wide open
You can say intense frequencies groping
Unfortunate turnout and you’re hoping. All while I stay
Calm and cool, you could say. Yeah

That it’s a textbook finish from the intro
I got the eye opener like Vitali Klitschko
This psychotherapeutic music when going through it
One might grow hair and lose it. See, I don’t care
When the resolution’s 24-bit, immortalizing
The sound of kicks, spitters when recorded
Parting with this will be such sweet sorrow
I holler at the wheat bread and wonder. You only heard in mono
The shorty was a hollow and he boldly learned to follow
I’ll put everything on it like when I’m served gyros
And break dudes in audio ‘cause many things are dated
If anything, it sound fresh like the day I made it
And overshadow those throwing broken arrows
I’d rather delete a being, kill your host of collabos
And break it up like four-year olds took toys to wreck
This keeps your finger on the search button pointing left