coca cola the soda ah lyricist with ebola putting nuts in your mouth like a chocolate granola stretch the crack rock like a master of yoga going god on the track niggas calling me hova niggas hogging in the lane bout to get ran over malicious with the lyrics like im stuck in my prime niggas call me Windex cause they know im gone shine but i get my hands dirty cause the money got grime you can zelle ,cash app or pay me through chime i want every red cent quarter, nickel or dime and i aint gotta prove myself to no man I'll pop a niggas top like a fucking coke can Muhammad with words but tyson with these hands never worried bout the money cause baby i got plans in the studio caues baby i got fans slide on a beat like a skater with some vans... chorus haters on my dick but they don't gotta chance you ...can't ...see ...me but might get a glance the pistol in your face make you piss in your pants make rain in this bitch like an indian dance bitch looking at me like shes stuck in ah trance i groove to the rhythm and the rhythm to the beat while im cruising smoking endo with my pistol on the seat they got a head start but they aint got me beat cause i dove in the game with a book full of cheats a lyrical lyricist i spiritual reminsce it pitiful i be pissed like judus i get you kissed you niggas will not be missed no longer will you exist we can put guns down toe to toe with the fist thats when i slide the grenade and get you otta this bitch