A. I’m not a fool Don’t play me dude I open up a can of whoop ass And show u a thing or two I don’t give if fuck about rules I pick and choose What I do Call me a worker On my waist I keep a tool With a stack of paper And a blunt is how I always move Never change up I been the same Since I was in elementary school Go ahead ask around See if I’m telling the truth I promise u gonna find out Im really that dude No hocus-pocus Or Abra Cadabra But I got a chopper With a clip like a banana Get hit a couple times And leak out like a can of cherry Fanta Nobody panic We just riding in The dirty south of Atlanta