[Verse 1: Cassidy]
Cats lame, the rap game in a weird place
Every time I listen to n***as I get a earache
That coke coming in a square shape
I drop it in hot water and whip 'til it deteriorate
They say I'm broke and it's sheer hate
I've been getting over 10 grand a show for 10 years straight
And if you wear tight clothes, then you years late
That was back when cats got perms to make there hair straight
You scared straight, I ride out, no air breaks
Fuck you, when I cut you, you will bleed like a rare steak
That sour D got a rare taste
And it stink just like piss on a project staircase
It's in my clothes, you smelling it
They say don't get high of you own supply, But I'm selling it and inhaling it
And haters say that I'm irrelevant, but them n***as not that intelligent
Keep yea mouth closed dumby
I'm not that old, but got old money
That's why the n***as wanna be me and the hoes love me
They got gallons of that shit that cure colds from me
And they get that shit that they sniff up there nose from me
It's a fucking rizzy, cause I get fucking busy
So fuck a city, I'm the king of the whole country
I talk that shit cause I could back it up
Rap it up, if you can't rap before I smack you up
Yup, your bitch come told me to snatch her up
But I just got head cause her ass wasn't fat enough
I put years and add 'em up
Plus I'm married to hip-hop, you ain't gon' fuck my marriage up
You tryna ball but got hurt knees
You must a had a dutch filled with dirt weed and a bag of dust
Yo don't make me pick the ratchet up, shoot you in your stomach
Make your guts fall out, like when you crack a dutch
I hear you rapping, I be cracking up
Like you can't be serious, this n***a is hilarious
What you tryna do, like every time I hear a rhyme from you
I bust out laughing, you should go on ComicView
You comical, you remind me of Kevin Hart
You trash, but you be gassed up, like you never fart
I might bite, but I never bark
I just tide 'til the wheels fall of, I don't ever park
I might fall off some day
But my Control freestyle got over a million views in one day
So they should sign me, no label or machine behind me
Just got my die hard fans and my team behind me
You would think I had the army of Marines behind me
You not a solider n***a, I will expose you n***as
I been in the street, I got folks shook
N***as in the business is weak, I got spit coke cooked
I just need a notebook, a pen and a beat
I eat rappers up, then floss skin out my teeth
I'm the Problem, still going by the same name
The game change, but I'm staying in the same lane
With or without a label, I'm able to maintain
Cause I got it locked like a chain gang
I mean it ain't the same game, from when I got brung in
I was young then, but I'm feeling like I'm young again
You think I'm done, then you too funny
Cause if thirty the new twenty, then I'm only twenty-one then
You young men better calm down
Before I turn my palm around, then back slap you and laugh at you
And how you figure that I'm washed up
Cause all you dirty ass n***as never wash up
Tight ass pants on, nuts all squashed up
Man they'd a poke you in your butt if you was locked up
And how you get signed, whose cock got sucked
Cause you got the toilet stuck with all them bullshit rhymes
You ain't never say a sick line
I beat the beat up, with a bunch of punches when I kick rhymes
I remember looking in my idols eyes
And he looking back at me like, I'm the one he idolize
I hear a lot of rhymes, from a lot of guys
But I only like 'em if they hot, like McDonald' fries
My worst verse better then your best rhyme
So why the fuck you gassed up like an Exxon
I could write a hundred bars and start on my next rhyme
In less time then it take you to write your next line
I'm an ex-con, thinking 'bout the next crime
I'mma do and how I'mma get away with it next time
I guess I'm a commodity
Obviously I'm special, my bars affect your psychologically
You can't take the hood outta me, I'm too gutter
And you a son of a bitch, you got two mothers
I make music that the ghetto like
I got Tequila in my cup, and a dutch full of Melo wife
I moved out the hood, but still live a ghetto life
And you the type to wear a helmet on a pedal bike
The softest n***a that I ever met, better yet
You way softer then all the n***as I never met
You so sweet, so put a cheese, them shells and make a head of lettuce look like taco meat
And all them cats that you think can rap
It's thinking back like, "damn how the fuck that man think of that?"
Tryna find a rhyme better then this rap verse
It take so much time Jesus be done came back first
Every rapper bar think I clowned 'em
And all the fans gon' be making a face like something stink around 'em
You can't deny that this a hot verse
But I'm just getting started, it's about to get a lot worse