[Verse 1]
Fuck all that patient shit, they wanna argue
I ain't take the bait for shit, this ain't art school
Fuck your lil' high-brow critique
Before I bow in defeat, ain't walked down my street
Never been the "that's the way it is" type of dude
Fuck that, I'm a "tell you how it is" type of rude
Bust that, type of moves
Light a fuse to bring light to that type of bruise
So deep under, people scared
We could only feel it, but we can't see it
Lot of these dudes only type it, they can't be it
Champion any man, region, fuck what can't be in
Can't beat 'em when thеy can't see them
On that free the man being
Yеah, and I barely puff but trust that I beat Diddy on any care lingo
Keep with me, many dare to think so
Write with the blood of fakes, though
And it's very rare, the ink low
But honestly, fuck a rap compliment
What the fuck's a bar to a prophet, bitch?
What the fuck's a threat to the option-less?
I need this shit to breathe and I gots to live
Yeah, think the time is yours, 'cause online is yours
That's what you grindin' for?
Watch when we cut the net like the Final Four
I bet you don't got the chest to back that lion's roar, pussy
Yeah, push me, I promise
I'm used to stress, all I could be is honest
I used to fret that I couldn't even keep conscious
Thanks to my weakness, I couldn't be the strongest out
[Bridge]
Huh, situation game critical
Stop playing with me this year, man, I tried to tell y'all
I'm not playin' no fuckin' games this year
Don't look at me no type of way
Don't fuckin' s- fuckin' subtweet me, whatever you wanna do
Don't do shit this year, look

[Verse 2]
I'm no stranger to anger and rage
Getting aimed at my head by a lame
'Cause they name got some fame, but they so insecure
That they keep themselves locked away
And I get to be the real me all up in their proximity
Who the one that got you stressed, lil' me?
Stop throwin' stones 'fore you get the boot, word to Sicily
I make the jazz cats listen to raps
I make the hood kids listen to sax
I make the white dudes understand which straws they pull out they ass
I got everybody givin' me dap, huh
Craft never speak to just one ol' faction
That picture's incomplete, that's a demo graphic
Yes, the whole team's 'boutta be N-O backwards
Won't stop 'til the whole scene accept no actors
The music gon' eventually bring me power, word to 50
If I'm the chosen one, it's only 'cause I picked me
Let a label, manager or agent try to Taylor Swift me
I'll have a custom grave tailored swiftly, you dig me?