[Hook] (x2)
Cadillac gold grills in my motherfuckin' mouth
Cocaine, gold chain rests on my vertebrae
All them n***as that be hatin' better watch what they say
I heat 'em up, beat 'em up I'm Cassius Clay

[Verse 1]
Mountain Climbing's about the rhyming, I work to the tippy-top
Me, my notepad, Mary Jane, sticky pot
Ticks from the clock, so it means I don't get to stop
I be in the studio pacing, waiting for this shit to drop
N***as wish whether we flop Divac
Flocka to take me a boombox, every fucking tune knocks
I see you running ya chops, chop it up and get chopped
Bag 'em up, he off the docks, and bitch I'm at the beach
Bitch I'm at the beach, (oh) bitch I'm at the beach
With a childish flow, that means this shit is out your reach
I'm here to keep it G, from the eyes how I see
You're here to be a B-I-T on my D
I need no ID for you to recognize
I exercise my thought, got you petrified, bitch I'm next to die
(Die) Consider me invisible, and also one mentally fucked individual

[A bunch of coughing and trading blunts, passing the weed around]

[Hook] (x2)
[Verse 2]
Why the fuck got these n***as gotta hate for?
I got a lot of shit they can't pay for
Cooler than the beach, fuck the lake shore
You n***as take six, well I'mma take more
I'm like a virgin dick, I go hard, and I get up in your bitch and bogart
N***as riding waves without the chauffeur
I'mma drown your ass and take your surfboard (PUSSY!)
My shit stink, no cushion Whoopie
Goldberg I beat the track Goldberg
Dusting off my shoulders and keep it moving forward
N***a sat and playing Madden on the couch, bored
Slower, you motherfuckers goin' nowhere
Except for taking Grandma to the store
Turn the television on and check the score
And trail like a tail on a fucking horse