[Verse 1: Ran Sav]
I ain't trynna be king of this rap shit
I'm just trynna move a king on some trap shit
Throwing lil white stones into plastic
Running 'round all day with the rat-rip
Draw past but a n***a still taxing
Brain got it cause the fiend still asking
Six popping and the n***a still flagging
Quit to hit your baby mom from the backhand
Y-y-y-y-y you can ask all my n***as in the hood about me
I've been getting money, been running these streets
Putting work in the passenger seat with the heat
Been standing in the trap n***a getting no sleep
More guns and T.I
What they know about me?
Fake n***as 'round here can't go around me
Post on my block and get dough around me
You better ask your mom who wanna know about me
From nights to the set of sister hotels
From checking that bitch to checking her smell
From a little motherfucker just running the spot
To a grown ass man, director of sales
From a half lil brick and a acker of wit
To a lil luxury car, now I'm stacking my chips
They ain't never seen a cat that's established as this
We can take it to the streets fuck the strap and the shit
I-I-I-I be at your bitch 'cause she bit my sweater
Cause I got her something clean and I ain't rip my tag
I got a .45 with a clip to match
And I keep it all white just to whip a batch
I've been getting paper since I hit the map
In a scraper going dummy like I'm Mr. Fair
Ain't shit changed and my president black
I'm putting 36 in and I'm bringing it back
[Chorus: Z]
Rappers think they hard until they brains blown out
Rappers think they har
Rappers think they hard
Rappers think they hard until they brains blown out
Rapper rapper rapper rapper rapper r-rapper rapper rapper
Rappers think they hard until they brains blown out
Rappers think they har
Rappers think they hard
Rappers think they hard until they brains blown out
Rappers rappers rappers rappers rappers rappers rappers

[Verse 2: Z]
Fuck it
Deading my opponent 'bout seven up in the morning
You're dealing with Jason Voorhees
Fuck it
The microphone recording said the scene already gory with a 40 in the bucket
Fuck it
Wanna battle for the stage
Hit the booth and talk flints and hit the block with a musket
Fuck it
I'll put a hole in your face for clapping the drum as the bass was pumping
I'll put the strap and the up under kill the track and then go punt it, get my sack while he's bumming
Swinging a rapper, then get punting, she gon' laugh as he get punted
Let me know when you're done funking
Push murder on stage
And these sacks that I sling keep doubling and doubling
I'll punt it to me, you got problem with Z I'll bring thugging to function
A-a-a-a-a-acting like a weenie
A-a-a-a-a-any time you see me when you acting like you thugging
Man come on pimping
We all know you won't do nothing
So give it up before I put vet on heat
Shooter Duncan
And make your head blow-up like the seventies when the Ruger dumping
Spit it since they credit when the microphone ain't shit
Talking tough so wanna hit it
Sending venom by they bucket
Pawn it when they get it
Hit the beddy for a minute
Leave your body cause it's bitching with no-one to rush in
I'm Firing Squad until the death of me with no breath to breathe
Swisher for the recipe with my opponents laying next to me
[Chorus: Z]
Rappers think they hard until they brains blown out
Rappers think they har
Rappers think they hard
Rappers think they hard until they brains blown out
Rapper rapper rapper rapper rapper r-rapper rapper rapper
Rappers think they hard until they brains blown out
Rappers think they har
Rappers think they hard
Rappers think they hard until they brains blown out
Rappers rappers rappers rappers rappers rappers rappers