[Produced by Larry Fisherman]

[Verse 1]
Precious z's
I got the TV on FX watching Louie G, Omnia
Rappers curing my insomnia
My EP raised wild standards
Droog is a Cuban, y'all black and mild mannered
Your daughter’s on the woodtip, I told her get a good grip
Cause at any given moment it could slip
Gotta exercise self-control well, said it defeats the purpose
Using a victory cigar then roll the L, burn Swisher sweet
Bumping this Larry Fisherman beat
You finito, don’t talk that nasty shit
I’m finna eat though, the state of the game can make you puke, gross
And the media is on some next shit, getting too close
Brother got the nerve to call himself a journalist
Talking all the time, he need to learn to listen
And the artist they suck is starstruck
When they leaders talking like like their shit is deep
It puts me to sleep
Ayo, all we do is craft rap bangers
That’s slap bumping out their headphones and strap hangers
Use that shit as a metronome
You know so you don’t forget your poem
Write it down when you get home
Play that old Old Sabbath break, "Hand of Doom"
The entire buildings feel me, I don’t just command the room
You see folks on their best behavior when Droog around
Prefer a girl my age, but I take a cougar down
I knew a chick named Sneakerhead, Sneakerhead
She licked her sole like Fat Joe, even gave the sneaker head
Y'all just have your Puma and Stan Smith and Bates
Do you mind if we dance with your dates?
Oh, you mind? Take it outside and wash yous
Cats are sort of wild, but couldn’t walk a quarter mile in our shoes
They still shopping at Marshalls, I show up, make ‘em close
Eat your food like stake 'em, stake 'em hoes
Wet all the hoes hearing my cadence and my drawl?
I haven’t even made sense of it all
Send a shot like a spitball, shake the ghost
And make the most of my undying spirit, going away with y'all
I’m out here getting my career and my bread right
You out there looking like a deer in the headlights
Said it was piff, but it was airy that you sold us
No good like some titties ruined by the aureolas