[Verse 1: Denzel Curry]
I'm hard, ready for the bogard
Hunger, n***a I'm the hunter
My bar, n***a mind on mars
Worldstar cause a n***a wanna be star
Throw the fist, have a fit
Grab the clip, pistol grip
Make them flip, pa** the spliff
Axe sh**, pa** the fish
You wanna pa** the b**h?
Cause I'ma beat the p**y up like a grizzly
Til now it look like the roaches of my cheeba
Girl don't leak on my sneakers
Now there is spit on my adidas
n***as are talking that sh** so I'm rolling my reefer
n***a wanna talk about a motherf**er
n***a wanna talk about a motherf**er
n***a I'm drinking some f**ing OE
I'm pimping these b**hes like into the sea
Denzel the Curry the ultimate n***a by far
Your b**h want a xanny, that heat with the candy the bar
In a mad city, I'm gifted I'm Kendrick Lamar
But you can say f** that sh** n***a, I'm just going hard
You n***as ?
[Verse 2: SdotBraddy]
n***as claiming they don't f** with me
Better get physical when I'm running into you
Cause when it's man to man and face to face
Some of you are sounding like Ph in physical
How does it feel? Oh, to me how's it feel
Oh, to know that you're pitiful
How can you hate on a n***a who's working
Back to back to back to back
To get mom out of that cubicle
So don't call me while I'm at work
Building up my net worth
Cause it's my money and I need it now, now, now, now, now
Like J.G. Wentworth
And I know my haters wanna k** themselves
Every time I say a hot line
But before you do call 1-800-273-8255
[Verse 3: Pouya]
My music immaculate, plus I am pa**ionate when I be bashing it
Are you selling it or are you capping it?
Is you on the stale or are you clapping?
b**h on fire like a match box
Still getting money in my tube socks
Pop the Glock, tear the roof off
Down the 9-5, quit my 9-5
Had no downsize, only uprise
Ain't no surprise
I did what I had to so I could surpa** you
I got more styles than a fashion show in Paris
I'm the one that your parents made aware of
Be careful with that one
He's a scumbag, do not trust him
If you fall in love he gone leave you
The man got too many hoes he don't need you
That's the nonsense that they feed you
And you listen, cause you got no mind for yourself
And you probably got a hundred bodies under your belt
Regardless as I'm heartless in that department
When it come to my money I'm an army
By my lonesome, South Side Slugs
Putting on for the broke ones
It take one to know one
Get a full clip to ya lip
Talk slick, I ain't talking Gang Starr
Florida reppin'
The bottom of the map, we done came so far
You wasn't with me coming up
You not gone be when I'm on
In between your b**h like floss
You's a fraud, you ain't got the sauce