[Intro: Sample]
[?]

[Verse 1: AKA]
I’m too connected, too well respected
Bitches hanging up all my posters with the prestik
If I do it like I’m supposed to? It’s expected
Please don’t bother me for a photo, but the guest list
Yeses, take it back to the essence
TDK cassette shit, still a pedestrian
Oh yeah, I’m talking way back
Way back when English or Vernac was still a question
I’m the one they aim at, we don’t pay the same tax
Don’t stay in the same flats, we ain't in the building
Rappers in a wack place, n***as got bad taste
Tried to give me handshakes, I don’t ever field them
Champagne give me toothache
Bruce Wayne in the Coupe
You n***as trapping on a Tuesday?
I hit the stu' and hit the Duvet
Bird's eye, point of view
So high, Gorilla Glue
North side, chilling in the pool
Tropika, so smooth

[Pre-Chorus: AKA]
To the n***as out stylin', profiling, limousine riding
Jet flying, jet skiing, ooh, reel in the deal
I can’t believe it, bitch n***as catch feelings
Drop top, no ceiling
Top spot, no seating
[Chorus: AKA]
Can you feel it? (yebo)
We don’t catch feelings (hell no)
If you a bloodclout stay in your lane
Rudeboy better get out my way
If I get a clean shot, I go blow out your brain
Treat me like Magriza, put you on the game, eh

[Verse 2: AKA]
I done suffered for the cause
Summer after summer I put numbers on the board
Damn, am I the only rapper with the balls
To say I don’t really give a fuck about awards?
All I ever wanted was applause
All you ever wanted was a Porsche
I’m rocking stunners you wouldn’t cava in the mall
You Stevie Wonder when the zaka is involved
Greedy with the arms, Fiji water on the lawn
Dripping with the sauce, that’s cheese Parmesan
I don’t fuck broads I just feed em to my dogs
20 Jager bombs got you reaching for the stars, yay
I’m just trying to be honest
N***as in the game treat me like I’m a target
Go ahead, put the blame on me
I’m the same OG, I just made more cheese
I was at the SAMAs in the nosebleed seats
Fast forward 2 years I ain’t wrote no speech
Got a plaque, plaque by my old PC
Now I’m finna count racks like I’m Motsepe
[Pre-Chorus: AKA]
To the n***as out stylin', profiling, limousine riding
Jet flying, jet skiing, ooh, reel in the deal
I can’t believe it, bitch n***as catch feelings
Drop top, no ceiling
Top spot, no seating

[Chorus: AKA]
Can you feel it? (yebo)
We don’t catch feelings (hell no)
If you a bloodclout stay in your lane
Rudeboy better get out my way
If I get a clean shot, I go blow out your brain
Treat me like Magriza, put you on the game, eh

[Verse 3: Kwesta]
Hah, ten year veteran, uh
The best, that’s evident
Even as a freshman I deaded them
But then again these gentlemen I light Thomas Edison, huh
Boy I got plenty rings
Had to give one to this hot melanin
It ain’t a thing, I came from Buttabing
So Will Smith never taught me what independence is
I’m from the era of the genesis
Designer raps, fuck your measurements
Som tshela u-sis ak'tshela what a fetish is
So I can finesse and finish it at the Radisson
Boy I make pretty money
Hand some to my people, now ain’t a n***a ugly
Anisebahle
That’s word from some big account
Used to roll a whole fucking bank
And get high as Orion’s belt
And now we roll up to the fucking bank
It’s all green on both sides of the fence, eish
[Pre-Chorus: AKA]
To the n***as out stylin', profiling, limousine riding
Jet flying, jet skiing, ooh, reel in the deal
I can’t believe it, bitch n***as catch feelings
Drop top, no ceiling
Top spot, no seating

[Chorus: AKA]
Can you feel it? (yebo)
We don’t catch feelings (hell no)
If you a bloodclout stay in your lane
Rudeboy better get out my way
If I get a clean shot, I go blow out your brain
Treat me like Magriza, put you on the game, eh