[Intro]
Yeah
Look, man
I'ma start by telling you the story
Tell you everything that happened
Then after that I'm just gonna body this motherfucker
Man, look
The industry is too funny, this is how it happened

[Verse 1]
We were s'posed to do a song and then you asked me for some money
So I sent you 2 grand you started acting hella funny
Like, "send me 2 more for this video that we'll shoot,"
Dawg, the song ain't even finished yet, just get inside the booth
This is what we'll do, when it gets a bunch of views
You'll make more money anyway, it's simple, that's the truth
Then he said he really needed it for studio time
I'm like, "Dawg, you're Sean Kingston, aren't you doing just fine?"
Then he started sharing his secrets like, "Between you and I, coronavirus got me broke, this what I do to get by,"
Then he hit me on facetime like, "Bro just do this favour, you're not paying for a feature, you just know I need the paper,"
"So just do this as my friend, I'll record it for you later,"
"And our song will be a hit, dawg, I know it's gon' be major."
I was tryna mind my business, I was keeping it hush
But the last hit he had was when the Migos beat him up
And then three weeks passed, still the song ain't finished
And I see he's in the studio like all day chilling
He said, "that money's not enough, I'm 'bout to drop a song with Bieber,"
I don't want his life story, all I wanted was the feature
[Interlude: *Tony Montana*, Merkules]
*"You know what I'm talking about, you fucking cockroach"*
He used to sing about beautiful girls, 'til his career fell off a cliff
Now he's broke and suicidal, suicidal, his career's over

[Verse 2]
He said his manager just told him that we shouldn't do our song
Like I'm not relevant enough, so this is how I prove him wrong
You're a wack piece of shit, stop playing with me stupid
Take that money I sent you and start paying back your jewelers
'Bout to take his ass to school, don't show my face 'cause I'm the shooter
You tried to play me, now I'll blaze you when you're staying in Vancouver
Got him scratching his head now, like how did this happen
I heard you crashed your Jetski, I wish you drowned when that happened
I don't even want the money back, don't talk to me sucker
Your career fell off so hard you probably got a concussion
You don't think we know you're broke and live with mommy? You buggin'
You're not dropping new music 'cause it's not doing numbers
Now that paper that I gave you's a deposit for your casket
Plus they say that you're a rapist you've been haunted by your past
Which is ironic, now in Canada you not gon' get a passport
Plus the promoter just told me that it's your mom who spends your cash
Look at him mad, 'cause he don't got no hits now
Tell this fucking goof to beat it like his song with Chris Brown
Your fifteen minutes is over homie, you need to face that
He's having flashbacks of way back when he got his chain snatched
I ain't even trying it's enough to feed him light jabs
Come back to planet Earth I think there's something in your sprite, fam
Somethin' tells me you got pics of Usher on your nightstand
Who would've thought I'd battle fucking Justin Bieber's hypeman
When it's beefing with this shit, so tell this geek get off my dick
Here's your favour, I reminded the scene that you still exist
Homicide in round 1, you got nothing left for round 2
We're both fat, but I'm losing wait by running laps around you
Croc sucker