I like my b*tches the colors of an paint palette
The gov got the sliders and they making that sh*t off balance
Your plug bout to slide ya to the feds, to get off faster
These hugs, they gon lead you to the bed, with ya fat ass and
Them jugs, gonna be up all in my face, when I be smashing
The public better get up out my face, when I with that b*tch
Just kidding know I love the f*cking fans for them I go badsh*t
To get that Trackhawk van, know I had to grind through the taxes
These sh*ts molded to my feet, they some Foamposites
My seed soaked up in her sheets, she a c*m magnet
Know that if I flash the beef, she gon go grab it
If I put them through the struggle, I know they would not manage
How the f*ck I'm cooking up heat on all 8 planets?
Got her singing like a Jackson, well specifically Janet
Got all these hating n*ggas heated, got dweebs saying "Dammit!"
Homies pitching on a base, like they Dellin Betances