Yeah
Yeah

I don’t fuck with y’all
I’ve been better at doing all this
Like how did you make your song
You been stealing beats all along
I’m performing out on the court
You been keeping the benches warm
I’m alone and I set the score
Y’all been faking it like a orgasm
Spasm like I’m seizing the beat
Y’all could make your shit neat, busy beating your meat
Y’all are copy-paste rappers, making 240p
I got a better option, hit control-alt-delete
I’m Chris Piché bitch, got your girl like a toy
I know you’re never stealing mine ‘cause y’all fuck boys
I ain’t playing fair, I’m giving kicks to the groin
And I don’t got a Trojan, but I took your bitch to Troy
From the 207
I’m colder than zero kelvin
I’m higher than fucking heaven
You’re more like smoking the resin
I’m making this with aggression
‘Cause y’all just take with no credits
And still make one out of tens
And my shit is more like eleven
Never hit me back
Brushed me off like plaque
Now they hear me on these tracks
They want in on raps
I don’t fuck with that
Hop off of my dick
Starting up my own clique
Old Rec making it big
‘Bout to pop like a zit
Y’all are fucking stupid
You do not know how to do this
Your girl wanted kamasutra
But she smelling like a tuna
I’m doing better than ever
I’m Dynamite with the tether
I’m coming up from the cellar
Y’all are falling like September, shouting