[Hook: Fashawn]
This is dedicated to you, the halfway crook
Poking bitches on Facebook
Same lame get his chain took

[Verse 1]
I throw flames let his frame cook
Glad bags and black mags is the season
Mothafucka I don't get mad, I get even
Burning the devil's, lettuce out the Garden of Eden
20 deep in the park, pardon my heathens
We all here, Grizzy Gang playing your pallbearers
I support the right to arm bears
Long stares, I'll lift you out your lawn chair
N***a, better keep 'em calm when the Don's near
This is cloud rap off a loud pack
Committing foul acts with a wild batch
A game having, chain snatching
Crime figures, you know, my n***as
Fucking with [?] thugs
Out to get scratch like a lottery ticket
Never stopping my mission, n***a, uh

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
It's only logic that I gotta be the mothafuckin' man
If you could empathize with me then you would understand
That I'm an over achiever, a born leader
That was taught to never ever leave the house without a heater
And for the dearly departed, pour out a couple liters
And let 'em sink in the cement
N***as said that I graduated from scheming
Well, maybe not, still California Dreaming
A parking lot full of Impalas and Beamers
A couple yachts, bitches swallowing my semen
Shoe box full of dollars for no reason, I'm a problem
Best believe it, vomit like I'm bulimic over something supersonic
Kinda rhyming procedures, ironic
My competition's just a bunch of juniors, Cuba Goodings
[?], in fact life is Russian Roulette
Only way to win, if you do it to death, it's F