f*** your rap song and your mother f****** hook I don't have to go by rules and ion play by the books oh Lord will you tell them I was born to be a crook hit your b**** with this hook now the b**** got hooked every day she trying to spend the night in the morning she cook I don't have to say s*** I just sit back and look f***** one more time send the back home shook that's another n**** mad cuz his b**** got took I'm wearing steel toe timbos for n***** a****** if you can't play the court I'm going to strip you of your retros burning on some petro talking to my migo on my metro planning on a kick doe in the car tinted windows where ya girl giving me head slow I don't need the p**** cuz I stay on the go f*** stomping in the yard that's what these pistols made 4 y'all be shooting them hunnid rounds I bussem out by the caseload the rap game easy as long as you don't sell your soul so i be in control carrying my flag with my pole yes I'm the mole digging holes for Gold 🪙 plus you trolls going to start paying me a toll asking me dumb ass shit like why the chicken cross the road