Death by lyrical injection I kill you rappers A lot of green with a yellow complexion Women call me the Green Bay packer I pack the zeros Meaning mucho deniro So paid, rappers is waitin’ on trades and they all get Knicked like Melo Hello, Luda! Tell theses other boys double up Cause I got some work all on my waist but I call it a tummy tuck My every records jumping, or playing double dutch I shit on rappers every verse just got the bubble guts
Let me tell this to the people not understanding my moxie Animal, watch me If you think it’s tangible, stop me But then I hit ‘em with a flow, that they can’t even copy See, we don’t play that Where I’m from it’s like fantasy hockey Sup with the dog, thugs want a war Bad GM, what you want to trade slugs with him for? While you cuffin ‘em all, I’m stuffing her jaw Then leave em for you to rebound Kevin Love on the boards Dog, you and your skill retard hard from of our squad I put you on a crash course in a smart car Gon' speeding not relying on the brake pad The car you should only drive on the race track So the lyings bout your feelings and your Maybach Are ghost tails for the Phantoms face facts We ruin hip hop, slaughterhouse and payback In the shape of a tat, you done faded to black Go
I went from eating top ramin to being top rhymer Check full of commas No regrets except for the drama I remember a time when my only perfection was my momma My mind in the wrong direction Now it’s time ya bow down and rep ? in my honor Writ in my honor cause bitch I’m bonker, plural In a whip with my Ivanka, pompous girl She on E, feeling on me, singing on key While I’m bumping We Are The World Got a sniff from Britney, no he didn’t did he “We run this town” No he didn’t did he I feel like tinting the glass, You take a sip with me She from the city of Jackson I call her Mississippi, that was pretty witty Your man like a black man tryna' get re-elected He ain't get it, did he?
Sticking it to the pedal Pedal to the floor Just whipping it through the ghetto Metal in the door, case I gotta throw some lead into ya, boy Referee mind state, I’m settling the score I don’t know what ya'll hating for Wait, wait, know what, matter fact I don’t know what you’re waiting for I ain't finna say nothing, turn the bass up more til the speakers pop I get a kick outta that, like a sneakers spot See I was a little kid with his thumbs in his ears And his tongue in his ear going na na na na na Just when you think it stop na na na na na Everything I speak is hot But don't be mad at least everything you speak is I can’t think of nothing nice to say, you’re not nice okay
Rapper, hustler, entrepreneur My shit fly like I’m launching manure Lord of the underground, God of the saw On Hennessy black, ? to the jaw Yeah I’m off the block This ain't work, homie, I’m off the clock I’m a syllable, Hannibal, killer cannibal With a mechanical mandible to deliver the flammable Ammo, lyrical animal off the top Rep that West till I walk with Pac We the two point 0 boys, Tiz, Crook, and Joe, Royce New ghost Rolls Royce, pulled off the lot Cock me, the only way you can stop me I’m top seed, I pop green at mach speed So watch me, if you haven’t seen the phenomenon I spit fast as Lamborghini’s and Ramadan
Songwriters: MONTGOMERY, RYAN D./WICKLIFFE, DOMINICK/BUDDEN, JOSEPH ANTHONY/ORTIZ, JOELL CHRISTOPHER/HADDON-JACKSON, CLARETA/JACKSON, HORACE/PORTER, DENAUN M./MATHERS, MARSHALL B III/RESTO, LUIS EDGARDO