[Verse 1: Cam Groves]
It's that liquor carryin' libertarian with a fifth of whiskey
One sip is gonna make your nipples harrier
I kick the barrier, now my shit is scarier
If you don't like a hit, dog, pistol whip a tarrier
And I'm aware of the other rappers that tear it up
But daring motherfuckers used to step into my area
And if you're itchin' to make a stupid decision
Or wanna take it to dissin', my diction'll take care of ya
And I bet I'm as bright as a head of lettuce is
But got it in my head that I'm ahead of my competitors
And I've been penning it ever since Sega Genesis
So you're bound to benefit depending what your fetish is
Back with the fast rap just to get you cats stressing
That impressive, I should be giving a fucking rap lesson
And each bar attached with attack weapons
Grow another leg and quit your motherfucking half steppin'

[Hook: Cam Groves]
Yo, our songs and our fans real
You belong in a landfill
Your career at a stand still
Nothing that we can't kill, kings of the ant hill
You got nothing on my man's skills
I'm so sick, I need some damn pills
I've been the man since "Stand Still"
Nothing that we can't kill, kings of the ant hill
[Verse 2: Cam Groves]
Hum-diggity drum, a hum-digga
When I was a young kid, they were calling me, "Dumb wigger!"
Now I'm back and bigger than some would figure
Hoping something cool happens, you'd think it would come quicker
I stay spitting like my tongue was a gunslinger
Punch lines thicker, mix 'em with a fifth of rum liquor
Your girl hungry and she want me to have fun with her
I could turn a nun to a sinner after one dinner
It's a fit of rage every time I hit the stage
I'm the illest spitter that isn't up on a Wiki page
Never spit the same, but I came to flip the game
Everything you bitches say is only gonna ricochet
Bitch, I wish you'd name someone badder
With the punchlines so big, they done rung Saturn
And the drums come fatter with the fung tung patterns
You ain't going nowhere like a one rung ladder

[Hook: Cam Groves]
Yo, our songs and our fans real
You belong in a landfill
Your career at a stand still
Nothing that we can't kill, kings of the ant hill
You got nothing on my man's skills
I'm so sick, I need some damn pills
I've been the man since "Stand Still"
Nothing that we can't kill, kings of the ant hill
[Verse 3: Spose]
My motivation's humiliation, my reputation
Is decimation, the preservation of a generation
These declarations my occupation, inoculation
From desolation, my estimation is I'm fucking good at rapping
I put discussion on percussion
Been conductin' this production, the destruction of your section
Yeah, I'm still the best rapper in Maine and always have been
You sold ten copies and they're all to your dad's friends
You're butter-soft, you're powder puff, you're featherweight
I'm Helter Skelter, I'll melt your shelter, I never wait
I just medicate, levitate and educate
And I don't gotta sample Michael McDonald to regulate
You see me captivate a cavalcade and commandeer the cabaret
The cavalry is screaming, "Don't stop!"
I started from the bottom, now I shart it when I jot it
I'm an artist and they bought it, you can find me on top
You're an honorable mention from a comical direction
You're a pussy and a dick like anatomical correction
Ask Ock Cousteau 'bout my nautical collection
When I brought new flows, the phonics so perplexin'
There's nothing eerier, steerin' fear in your area
Mirror you mysterious lyricists, P period, Dank
Kings of the ant hill called "Maine rap"
You'd have to get Wu-Tang to move here to change that
[Hook: Cam Groves]
Yo, our songs and our fans real
You belong in a landfill
Your career at a stand still
Nothing that we can't kill, kings of the ant hill
You got nothing on my man's skills
I'm so sick, I need some damn pills
I've been the man since "Stand Still"
Nothing that we can't kill, kings of the ant hill