Youngin' don't make my sales rise, I shoot you out ya chuckers
Pusha hear the whispers of all you motherfukkers
Papa said stay free of them suckas
Minus the wicked jumper, street baller like the rucker
Skip to my Lou if you lookin' for a couple, roosters in the duffle
Keep the hood screaming cock-a-doodle-doo fukkers
Coke by the ton, rap nikkaz I'm the one
With basic rhyme pattern, how the fukk you tryin' to chatter?
Basic ass rappers, got 'em runnin' for they life
I philosophize about Glocks and keys
nikkas call me Young Black Socrates
West Indies bytch drop to knees quick (what?)
With dreams of being a rich man's bytch
Feel sorry for nikkas, pull triggers, and they shyt click
So many bullets jammed in my shyt, call me Lead Fist
Shake the diamonds out my wrists
Momma I’m So Sorry