Walking in the streets Doing things with elites I step in the scene give credit You can’t predict my future The verdict is clear dear I push my gear running faster Clear the road am not an imposter If you see me you see the beat roaster I am standing tall check my posture Financing my dollar You check me as3 no fri corner When I hold the beat everyone turn to be mourner Crushing on my SportyBet I get the cash to the buying of my jet Rap critics turn doom because the light is here am not talking about Jesus You for get the rhyming bag Because I turned the beat into a farming sack No no I’m a bragging thug Shun it ! We are done