text: Young goat
  This game what Im boutta fucking run though
  Too wavy I dont own one boat
  When I get it promise all these nigga donezo
  Got a thottie Imma hit it like a drum roll
  Gun throat neck flow cut their necks
  They better cut my check
  Im too cold, respect
  I do own the west
  Im too froze
  But next to new gold
  Patek, I do nose congest, yeah
  They sick now
  I spit wild
  My spit knock down a brick house
  You spit mild
  A sick child with a big mouth
  Your bitch wild
  She came through got dicked down
  I just smiled Im like
  Im gonna wipe their mind with bright devices
  Why would you try my likeness?
  Nice with the mind like a grad from Boston
  Sickest nigga in the game, Magic Johnson, like, uh
  I gotta stay with the tribe
  They gotta stay with the Nine
  Bitches been pregnant a lot
  My shit, they banging a lot
  Im like a bagel on top
  Bitch, I was made for the sauce
  Never complacent Im not
  Focused on making the guap
  Too cold, thats two winters
  If I feature on a song thats two dinners
  So ill, so rude, so punitive
  Tell them niggas they aint ready for my newest shit, nah, ay
  Bitch, Im dumb and it fact
  I turn tables cause Im running it back
  If I see red then Im gonna attack
  Bitch, I pull strings but dont want em attached, nah, ay
  I dont want em attached
  And I got a lot in my mind and I really wanna relax
  I heard em talking that shit but it really wasnt that fast, yuh, ay
  It could never distract from this