[Produced by Thelonious Martin]

[Verse 1]
I think i'm Patrick Bateman
Or Norman Bates, nobody safe until they pay him
Pockets resemble popular faces, populous at them rapid paces
He dead broke cheesin' with the shakers places turnin' vegas
That armor glisten properly in the light
Pompous flow frothy sprawlin like he lookin for a fight
Embezzle funds then take ya life
Harlequinned, we gon' hit again
Dealt a flacid pitch, got us rummagin in and out of those pockets, gait cautious
Whip clouded he nauseous
Ballad sounding lochness
Stampeded the clinic, think he spittin out the hospice
Smithin in his closet get surfaced for them wallets
Convicts creepin in that civic
Frail n***as get the business
Hit em sloppy nobody miss him
Snatch up ducketts, fuck the piglets
Villainous in dormancy, feel like gacy with the carpentry
Them Koston's stained burgundy
Keef particles part, get lit the watch Baker 3
Young Breadwinner momma dropped him the bakery
Somebody better pray for me