Intro:
If I was in the Philippines, he'll be like my muhfuckin' Malcolm X
My Martin Luther King because (Martin had a dream)
He's too fire to go unnoticed
There's no way I'm just gonna pass him off like he's just some any rapper
Like a one-hit wonder (Yeah)
Verse 1:
I'm on whatever you on, I ain't gon' talk on the phone (Haha)
Keep that same energy fuckin' with enemies
It's gettin' temptin' to run in your home, huh, huh (Run in that!)
Buddy, I'd do it alone, Cuddy said, "Wait up my homes!
Don't just go hit 'em 'cause I gotta drive you
Focus on aimin' that blick at his dome!" No cap
You motherfuckers be lucky as fuck that ain't nobody envious of you enough
Take it from me like a brother who dug off the mud on his head but done ended up cuffed
Then he just gets spat back out again into a world where he doubled what he did
'cause he learned "give it up or get fucked in turn, homie"
Chorus:
I'm the realest in the business and everybody gon' be envious of my beginnings
Got a circus full of sinners with bodies
So stop tryna be another addition
'cause I'm the realest in the business and everybody gon' be envious of my beginnings
Got a circus full of sinners with bodies
So stop tryna be another addition
Verse 2:
I done got hit on the head, barely survived that shit (Okay)
Minus a nine from ten, Eminem's spot still sits
But fuck a position, I'm tunin' him in
Let all you rock out with it, I ain't ever gonna be an opt-out mission
Get the Glock out with it, get to poppin', dip out and smoke
With the homies we mobbin', while I'm cleanin' the stash of my calibers
Some of them might got ya' name on 'em
While I brag about shit that could happen
I am the reason that they got a chain on 'em
When I rap, they consider me a Gatling
Fillin' up mags, I'm finna go clap 'em
Gettin' that bag with the goat, B-Rabbit, I know they hate this flow
I'm in the mode to get to killin' again with the best
Stick in your dome, you're never gettin' a penny or less
Stealin' the flows, then I'ma spit it again as a test
Sick of these hoes, they get to bitchin' the bigger the breast
Nevertheless I'ma get it in a way that you can never better
Instead of settin' a bet up, I let up with the Beretta
Make it dugu-dugu, drillin' you bitches in front of PETA
'cause I'm kinda gettin' fed up always leavin' y'all wet up like
Repeat chorus
Verse 3:
Guess I've really no right to complain much
Hip hop has been good to me huh
But when they say that I'm only top five
'cause I'm white why would I be stunned
My skin color's still working against me (What)
'cause second I should be to none
Being white ain't why they put me at five (Nope)
It's why they can't put me at one (Whoot)
They're comin' with more venom so the haters I'm aimin' it towards them and
All the envious rappers I'd torch if I'm on a joint with 'em
And that is the only retort is I'm not played in the clubs
Motherfucker put a cork in it
Only reason they still play your shit in the clubs (Why?)
Is 'cause you still perform in 'em (Haha)
I am a guest in this house but I turned this bitch to a mansion
That's an expansion made it gargantuan
England Germany France and Japan's in this bitch
Even Dubai because my music they do buy
You die tryin' this scientists two psy-
-chiatrists could not un-screw my head up
The blue eyed devil I never quit do I
Naw cause you know you'll get washed like a bar of soap
You pussy you wouldn't give a cigar to smoke
And I know it eats at your heart like an artichoke
Because you know that's how likely you are to choke
Your heart is broke as I rip you apart I go
Bananas precede to spit every bar I wrote
I was spittin' before my mother's water broke
It's not even close you bitch I'm by far the goat
Gen Z is actin' like rap experts zip up your gaps and close your mouths
Bitch you ain't been on this planet long enough to tell me how rap's supposed to sound
Ya'll need to stick to what you do best
Shootin' schools up yeah go load up rounds
In your parents' gats and go to class
And let off with the strap and go to town
Shout to the Furious Five and Grandmaster Flash
But boy (What up doe)
There's someone who really is furious
Stay out his path his wrath avoid
And I'll be the last to toy with a juice head
Whose brain is like half destroyed
Like a meteor hit it well
There went Melle Mel we lost his ass to roids (Damn)
God was like "I got him"
But I'm gonna start him at the bottom of the barrel brought him in the world
With a ma that was on valium and his father was a coward
Yaught him as a child when no fucking body was around
How to get himself up and out of poverty and now
Not even a growl in his stomach gotta be a hound
'til they put your body in the ground probably
Gonna sound like a cliché but when haters try to beat you down
Say fuck 'em
Repeat chorus
Outro:
I'm just playin', Gen Z, you know I love you
