[Verse 1: U-God]
Who put a Wu n***a on this track?
Guess I'ma slaughter you
When I had to rip this quick bars on deck
Minus the autotune
Blood on my Nikes, fistfight, selling that white
This is for all the goons, bitch
Sit on this dick, swallow and spit
That's what you all to do
Manhattan it with some [?]
[?] Chanel over 5th & Madison
Side line chicks get sent to the Radisson
Spread that cream to my team, then vanishing
Pop them doors and [?] Amsterdam
Louis on the seats handcrafted by Dapper Dan
A new classic bastards
No tricks in '17 'cause the guns are clean
And emigrate over [?] an Island
Fake smiling in your face
Catch cases with thoughts of violence
That marketing fee is just a page in my rap degree
It fit he dog organic now I'm top line pedigree
Move like a centipede for enemies that's tryna put an end to me
It's gonna take another ten times ten to me
Do the math and get back to me
It's U-G-O-D; fucking up the church money
After this track you gon' need plenty racks
Break that bang! ([?] another word homie)
Still smell like overseas, ripped jeans, the smoke right, so high
Off the edible green, while they sipping the lean
All rap lives matter 'cause we living in dream
This source is never depleted
How value some say little conceited
And I put a little salt on it
But however do you want it? However do you need it, need it?
Don't make repeat it - all soldier
Money fold the ex-gunslinger
Got me pissed off with chips on both shoulders
It's just too many clones with a microphone
And it's Wu! A lot of copies up dirty like Zu!
After I'm gone when they be all/yawn like you
And it say uptown hold the burst for me
With the shot at young Cardi B