[Intro]
Oh my fucking God!
My chode is hard
(R Productions)

[Verse]
Yo, a microphone is my fucking weapon of choice
Fuck guns and bullets, 'cause I got a deadlier voice
I keep spitting, keeping my throat wettened and moist
I'm bullying these rappers like I was wrecking their toys
This shit is easier than stealing candy from a baby
Raised in the '90s, fuck the '70s and '80s
I'm like a bakery: rhymes are made fresh daily
You're an imitator with some flaky-ass pastries
I won't be happy 'til I'm sitting on a throne
In a castle made of gold, eating lunch and getting blown
You could say it's impossible, but I guess you never know
'Cause I've been prophesized to make it
Yeah, it's fucking set in stone
I'm sick of all these white rappers thinking they're black
All acting like gangsters in the way that they rap
I'm not being racist, I'm just stating the facts
Because I'm living, breathing proof that Caucasians can rap