I know you listen every project
Never get the concept
Content too complex, too conscious
Converse context, too much to process
All you do is talk shit
♪
Yeah, it's Eazy, young Frank Sinatra
My car self-parks while I drink a vodka
My weed comes from space, you can taste the star dust (ah)
"I will always win" is my favorite mantra (yeah, yeah, yeah)
You should never play with monsters
You'll end up in a lake or a basement locker
What's on my plate? Steak and eggs and lobsters
What's on this plate? Some amazin' pasta
So much food on my chinny-chin-chin
They get in a bad mood when I'm winnin'-win-win (yeah)
Sad news for you kiddy-kid-kids
Thinkin' that you can't lose now, it's really grim-grim
Thinkin' that you're Swae Lee, but you're really Slim Jim
Or Jay-Z but you're really his kids
You're not a boss, I designed the business
"You can suck my cock" I reply to bitches, and
When you see the size of this dick
It's scientific, not science-fiction
It can touch the clouds, yeah the sky's the limits
Plus it's good for you like a vitamin is (yeah)
They all know I'm high, I'm different (yeah-yeah)
Never had to try to fit in (no-no)
Raised by Family Guy and Simpsons (wait)
Wayfair told me buy this infant
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, don't go there
Nose hairs burned down from the coke shared
With a groupie in Saint Louis, now we're both starin' (yeah)
Out the window without blinkin', thinkin', thinkin', thinkin'
All these little pills keep on fallin' on me (whoa)
Pick 'em up nice and then call the lobby
(We need more Sprites and halal salami)
Lay down now, eat my sausage mommy, ah
The money, the power, the gold (the power, the gold)
I've come to devour the vault (devour the vault)
Roll with a pack of the wolves (pack of the wolves)
You do not matter the most (no)
All of my enemies hoes (hoes, hoes)
We make 'em ghosts (ghosts)
Slay 'em like David with stones (stones)
Get in the spaceship and psew
Off we go as the rocky roads
The road get rocky, runnin' out of coffee, blow, and Vyvanse
By chance, can you spot me, though?
Until my soul gets sold, I'll be awfully broke
There's a moral to the story that cannot be told
About the ones on top, how they copied flows
From the rapper that's hot in the spot below
I'll take anybody beef, make a sloppy Joe
Okay, take another look at the menu
Never sold out, but I sell out the venue
Bottom of the pill bottle tell what I've been through
So every day, I wonder if I wanna continue
Bitches on my telephone tell me to send nudes
I can't now, I'm playin' Nintendo with ten dudes
And I'm off of the benzo
My friend Drew's dad got a stash like Gardner Minshew
Long hair, lookin' like a porn star now
I could prolly get a foreign car now just to make 'em say, "Wow"
Cal really got his shit together
'Least a fuckin' drug addict, but he's rich forever
And it's crazy, his car got crimson leather
He got customs plates, they let him pick the letters
He got a dick implant, the bigger, the better
The only girl he can fit in like six foot seven, man look
I know you listen every project
Never get the concept
Content too complex, too conscious
Converse context, too much to process
All you do is talk shit, lil' bitch