you'd better dig a mote because I'm coming for your throat don't choke you'll be leaving in a tote I'm a mother fucking goat I'm not here to gloat time to put you on a boat and make you fucking float on all the words I wrote time to take a holiday and get out of the shade I'm getting played with all this money that I made you, your mother fucking who never thinking of your crew all the people that flew because you're nothing new and never true in lue of being called out followed by the fall out time to do a call out tare the wall out going all out deck the hall out I'll make you ball out bring the raw out I'm walking tall out of the gate, I set the bate out speading hate so I can lead you to your fate here, I'll open up the gate