[Verse 1: Young Gordo]
This the start of my CD yo
I'm just stunting on these hoes
Rhymes so cold that I'ma f** around and freeze hoes
Your girl want the D though
I ain't talking vitamins
Dick so good she gon' cum, and invite her friends
These n***as bullsh**ting, I ain't got no time to spend
Hoes catching feelings, I'm feeling like I popped a Vicodin
Oh sh**, bring it back
I'm going in on this track
If you still ain't feeling it, well n***a we can fix that
Fans fiending for my dope lines, call them Charlie Sheen
Cause the bars supreme
Something like the Dream Team
Home of the Purple Sprite, n***a that's that mean lean
Never sipped though, stay true to the green team
Always repping Celtics
Hoes so hot they melt sh**
Rappers can't see what I'm writing like the dyslexic
Ooh, k** 'em Terrio
I told y'all I was very cold
And I'm so fly my middle name should be "aerial"
Someone please call 9-1-1
Cause I done murdered everyone
And I ain't even f**ing done
Still got breath left in my lungs
Make these rappers wonder why, they're even rapping for
Ain't in the rap game but I'm knocking at the front door
Biiitch
(Yo, keep it running)
[Verse 2: Young Gordo]
It's Mr. Triple Double
I ain't never been subtle
And I'm reaching for the stars, you can call me space shuttle
Always talking sh** and I ain't seen no rebu*tal
I been told y'all I could rap, I must've st-stuttered
Cause they flu-flustered
It's big little brother, bu*terfly flutterer
But he sting a bumble bee better, biitch
Long drive hitter, never been a put-putter
Hold up, hold up
What about a caddie? b**h I carry my own load
Cause I'm used to riding solo
n***as out here posing like they taking f**ing photos
Talkin' bout more hoes
Than the ol' Saint Nicholas
You might as well make a list
Of all your favorite rappers
Then watch it fade out quick while I'm k**ing all these ba*tards
f**ing with Young Gordo, yo my n***a that's a safety hazard
Homie you ain't know? Yo, with this pen I'm legendary
And I got more bars than a f**ing penitentiary
With your girl, I might've popped her cherry
Beat the p**y up, like I was a canine
But it still got eight lives
I always tell the truth, and I don't need no testimony
No baby mamas neither, man f** an alimony
Crazy b**hes out here f**ing, tryna get pregnant
Then they break a n***a off, tryna get that monthly payment
That's why I always stay strapped with that latex
n***as f**ing acting like it's lame to have safe s**
Bet it won't be lame when you get that "I'm late" text
Then your baby mama getting half your f**ing paycheck
And I ain't saying all girls like that, but some really are
I met a couple in my life I tell you they got no heart
So I'm drifting through these hoes, like I was a go-kart
Who's really f**ing with my writing ingenuity
I'm spitting stupidly and fluidly with continuity
And I'ma keep it up until the day that rapping's through with me
Biiitch