wait a minute, f** n***a!
(chorus)
I know you got a lot to say
but you can't approach me
I know.
(verse one)
I swear you n***as be
faker than Versache bags
living in the snake's gra**,
acting in they rapping,
so dramatic just like Drake's past.
You think you so cool,
scheming through them Ray Bans,
hoping that n***as test you
like homie, go to school for that.
You a f**ing kid.
Like a pedo f**ing kids,
I be searching, I be lurking
waiting for your a** to slip.
I slip and slide up in this chick,
the kitchen cooking in the oven.
Thighs on Citibikes,
she thick, I swear a n***a fell in love.
I got her pregnant on the pullout couch,
so we made you on the pullout couch,
run it back, I don't think ya n***as heard me right.
I got her pregnant on the pullout couch.
(chorus) (x2)
(verse two)
oh, what's your beef
because it ain't with me
because you never say it to me
you say it everybody else,
everybody else.
Baby, if you've got a problem,
you can let me know.
If you've got a problem,
you can let me know.
(chorus) (x2)