[Chorus]
I've been fucking with this game for a long time and I'm impatient
I'mma kill somebody if somebody don't make me real rich this year

[Verse 1]
For starters, I'm all about the bread
I ain't no artist, I'm a target, I'm like the landlord
Hip hop's currently fallen down the stairs
Your rents due, muthafucka!
Now who gives a fuck about who bar is the hardest?
When the DJs think they're bigger stars than the artists
Riding around in Ferraris doing more A&Ring than the A&Rs
And half them n***as don't even scratch
That's like the blind leading the blind leader
Hip-hop is like the FBI in the trap readin' The Don Diva
It makes no sense, it's ironic how I can straighten you
Even though I stay so bent
I'm about getting ins, everytime my money's on hip hop
That's every time the house n***a wins
Flooding the drought, loving the club, Crip/Blood gun talk
Ladies and gentlemen: hip hop in one bar

[Chorus]
I've been fucking with this game for a long time and I'm impatient
I'mma kill somebody if somebody don't make me real rich this year
Where my money at?
[Verse 2]
I put a cease and desist on this industry shit
Me making a friend means I just make an enemy quit
When n***as think they finna be big, their images switch
They go from getting beat by a n***a to sweet to a cinnamon whip
They acting like they got the Vanna White in Wheel of Fortune
But actually they spilling the script
I tell her DJ to play mines, or we gon' spray ya
And that's on every MC's mind, they just don't say it
I flame spots, my brain lies and the top is on fire
How you gonna say Nickle Nine ain't rising
Rappers no longer have to be on the block lying
You get your ass whooped on the net, you a pop icon
I spazz like I got the right rhyme
I flash like a shot Nikon
I call my motherfuckin' man my money, so money stands out
While I got my motherfuckin' hand out

[Chorus]
I've been fucking with this game for a long time and I'm impatient
I'mma kill somebody if somebody don't make me real rich this year
Where my money at?