Blowing on shake with the fire like dynamite
You know I'm soaring like I'm never scared of heights
Got the bitch on me like she tryna take the pipe
Take a sip of this Patron got you feeling right
Oh it's a party so you know I'm feeling right, smoking gelato, I'm high til tomorrow
Bills in my pocket like I hit the lotto, don't like to copy but you like to follow
Sauce I spit, sauce I drip, who's that nigga with a very big drip
Glock on my hip so I walk with a limp, f*cked on yo bitch now she walk with a limp
I seen her friend now my dick got a limp, the feds let me out so I'm back on my shit
Don't ask me no questions, cause I won't say shit
I'm tryna stack all of my bands like some bricks
I came up from nothing, they know I'm legit, don't act like I owe you, I don't owe you shit
You claiming you real but I know that you fake
Like snakes on a plane but there's snakes on my grass
Foot on the pedal, ignition the gas, switch on the bro, tell me why you do that
You like the six and then now you a rat, reason that I catch ya soul, that's a fact
Sauce I spit, sauce I drip, who's that nigga with a very big drip
Glock on my hip so I walk with a limp, f*cked on yo bitch now she walk with a limp
I seen her friend now my dick got a limp, the feds let me out so I'm back on my shit
Don't ask me no questions, cause I won't say shit
I'm tryna stack all of my bands like some bricks
Check... I rap like God ain't real
Me I wanna rap like how they feel? Everybody else with the blase still
Ya'll aint real, he ain't real, she ain't real, we ain't real
But I'm just bein' real
I get tired of hearing that I sound like Eminem, he think he better then send 'em in,
Sweet 16s, they cinnamon, not sentimental but still I'ma gentleman
I said I'm mental, got too much adrenaline, I send ya man to the store
Just to get me some papers to roll up and as soon as he get back
I promise that I ain't gon let 'em in
Ya girl on ketamin, she look really old, that bitch David Letterman
Her sister is beautiful doe, at ya funeral doe is the spot that I met her in
I get 'em up outta the Denim and dead 'em and send 'em a letter from Edison
North Jersey, or drop her off right off at a spot that I never been
Peace... bitch, I ain't gon' talk to these hoes no more
Til my lil cash flow grow so tall l that Mexicans can't jump over the wall
Like hold ya applause and lemme just finish my verse for a minute
Lemme just send 'em a hearse for a minute, I don't gotta sit and rehearse, I'ma get it
Two three takes, guarantee I'm good, who he hate? apparently it's us
He lunch meat, he a Primo sub, bad Sunday soon as he woke up
Come Monday and he ain't show up, Ted Bundy with a 38 snub
Said one day I'ma go blow up, explosion, lil bitch
Watch how I spit it, watch how i get it, lil broke boy with a Honda Civic
Stretch came through went and shot ya'll fitted, turn ya lil crib into Chi-Town widdit