[Verse 1: E Cole] 14 years old and im about to start running sh**/ Rapping on soul and I'm still able to get that clitirus/ Idolize my character, setting a role eductaing them little kids/ I got balls to get out that hole you still hiding in the ditch/ Writing this rap with strep throat dot matter if I'm sick/ A couple months from now you'll call me a mixtape-legend/ I know my future home is behind the gates of heaven/ Sweet smelling legend like yankee candle/ I'm just k**ing sh**, like Mickey Mantle/ So you better get a grip cause I'm too hard to handle/ (Chorus) [Verse 2: E Cole] My mom said I got more than I can ask fo'/ When I look in my pockets I don't see any cash though/ This sh**s too easy, give me something difficult/ Max turns up the beat so It dont f** with my flow/ All my rhymes just so dope/ Best part that its all natural Quick like a cheeta, I must be an animal/ But not a copy cat, I just don't steal rhymes like that/ I guess I'm just so hard to handle, that's a fact