[Verse 1: Thrilla Thor]
I want a piece of everything living like Bruce Wayne since
All a n***a knows, wings things and binge drinking
I forgot to forgive and I've been thinking bout my haters
Middle finger f** you and your whole generation
Motherf**er what you looking at? I got a body bag
Full of dead presidents, special nic-nacs
Just to get your patty whacked gives a dog a bone
As thick as a brick house I'm getting head in 6 rooms
Its 90 degrees I'm still in the zone still shisty
Gla** of patrone a blunt the size of field mice
b**h handle ya own, I know Mormons who roll dice
I know Hindus who jack n***as know better to roll spice
See I've been writing 16's that elephants remember
Rhyming 32's make you split ya own deck
I got an angel as my flight planner I make her feel special
Got the devil as my hype man like I don't know better (uh)
Oh sh**! captain Morgan got me s**ing black titties
Find me at your house eating out the fridge
Who be rolling with the white that's a bunch of black n***as
Stack nickels to the satellite roast a rat quicker
Than it takes you to cheese like them Walmart stickers
Four n***as 8 legs no Arachnids
Bitter sweet licks on the chase for the cash
Motherf**er feeling lucky punk Call em St. Pat-Trick!
Roll with the clique or meet the bottom of a 'lac With
Hub caps They couldn't fix you with a black smith
Max! I've been shooting with the stars cause Blizzle a Sun gunner
I clearly deserve a plaque and a hammer for bloody knuckles
With a bunch of motherf**ers Who happen to claim each other
Like Jackie and Chris tucker Rush hour to blockbusters (Uh)
It's my party, do what the f** I want to
I'm smoking up apartments Hoping you got the lungs to
Afford it enjoy it of course these hoes would love to f**!
You report to the boys you get destroyed and deported chump!
The worst you ever had it was 3rd party custodian
These cougars call me "Young Dick" shoving it up Fallopian tubes