[Intro: battle crowd roar, record scratch] [Vance] Who wrote that? [Crowd] Vance! [Hook: call-and-response, scratched] Who wrote that? (Vance!) Who wrote that? (Vance!) Say it with your chest, now who the fuck wrote that? (Vance!) Ten years on the throne with the city on my back Who wrote that? (Vance!) Who wrote that? [Verse 1: Vance, deep cocky voice] Look at this, the challenger, the car-wash prince Smellin' like a wax job, ain't been paid since Lives with his grandma, sleeps on a pull-out couch Notebook in his lap like a pacifier in his mouth Every night, that notebook, like a Bible, like it's sacred Ten years of scribblin' and nobody ever played it I got three albums, gold plaques on the wall You got three roommates and a bucket in the hall I got a crowd that'll scream every word that I say You can't get your own grandma to come out and watch you play You a warm-up act, you the bathroom break, you the line at the bar Only time this crowd'll scream for you is when you're parkin' my car So go back to the car wash, I'll be by around ten Here's a twenty for the wash, that's the most you ever made off a pen Write that down in your little fuckin' notebook, kid [Hook: call-and-response, scratched] Who wrote that? (Vance!) Who wrote that? (Vance!) Say it with your chest, now who the fuck wrote that? (Vance!) Ten years on the throne with the city on my back Who wrote that? (Vance!) Who wrote that? [Verse 2: Lark, calm raspy voice, drums drop to bass only] Yeah, the notebook, I'm glad that you brought it up 'Cause you read it, so you know what's in it, let's open it up Page forty-one, ten years ago in March "I'm the winter in your chest, I'm the crack in your heart" Sound familiar? Yeah, I see the whole room know That's the first line off your first gold album, bro Page sixty, "I don't battle, I just bury the dead" That's the line you put on shirts, that's the tattoo on your head Page ninety, a hook, a little call-and-response "Who wrote that?" Funny, that's the question all along Five hundred a song, cash, back seat of your car Paid my grandma's insulin, so I know what you are Every bar that made you famous came off of this couch Ten years you been rappin' my diary out your mouth So keep the twenty, Vance, I'm good, I'm straight You're gonna need it for a pen, 'cause you got a verse to make [Beat Switch: stomping drums, crowd roaring, rapid trade] [Vance] That's a lie, ain't nobody in here believe that [Lark] Then spit somethin' new, right now, go 'head, I'll wait [Vance] I'm the winter in your [Lark] Wrote that [Vance] I don't battle, I just [Lark] Wrote that [Vance] I'm the king of the [Lark] Album three, track two, wrote that, I was nineteen with a cold [Vance] Who [Lark] Don't you dare [Verse 3: Lark, drums full, raspy voice rising] Ten years I was quiet 'cause the quiet paid the rent Ten years watchin' strangers scream the checks that you spent I ain't mad you made the money, I'm mad you made 'em believe That a man who never bled could tell 'em how it feels to bleed So hand me the belt, or hand me the mic, I'll take either Grandma's in the front row tonight, so speak up, she's a believer Go ahead and ask 'em, champ, the way you always do Ask 'em who wrote that, I'll stand here next to you [Final Hook: call-and-response, crowd flips] Who wrote that? (Lark!) Who wrote that? (Lark!) Say it with your chest, now who the fuck wrote that? (Lark!) Ten years on the couch with the city in my lap Who wrote that? (Lark!) Who wrote that? [Outro: crowd chanting, mic drop] [Vance] ... [Crowd] Lark! [Lark] Round two? Nah, I'm good
