Lyrics: Yeh,yeh, here's a situations, to become a-badass rapper you must pump up your ass like you used to fill a gas, fillin' an air, gettin' on it must be a way better then voices in ear, spit shit till they can taste it, chase 'em off with lyrical miracle or murdered 'em lyrically, try to fit in any booth instead of wastin' a time in phone reboot, up in front of the crowds you're their nightmare without any trouble in a-snare, gettin' used to it, imma' dead man walkin', never grew up around my family coz' m' not a human being, inhumane, insane pain in the ass, one way or another i'll be the greatest otherwords i'll be fuck, imma' east-side rapper i've proven that shit myself or imma' drive with a cyclone, crash into everyone prone to get blown with a fuckin' roller coaster droller and rob a bunch of dollar.