[Verse 1]
Blewell jeans, Moby Dick stitching
Trigger finger itching
To trouble one of you n***as
I'm daring one of you n***as to jump
I'ma snatch you out pistol whip you
Then put you back in the trunk
sh**, I'm back in the front
The front page of the newspaper
They say I'm seeing more paper... true
But only if you knew that
I was in your house right now taking the paper from you
Where ya safe at?
Chick is swinging on the dick like a f**ing bat
And catch it all like an umpire
I'ma go hard, rims bigger than the f**ing car
Baby girl say why the f** you even got tires?
I don't know, just get inside
And never question my sh** again ho
I fold dough like a notebook
I see money, you pa** it up like Magic Johnson no look
Who the f** taught you n***as how to cook
That's what I'm hearing up in your song
Beat said if you're cooking up the product and your wrist don't hurt when you do it then you're doing it wrong (f**ing bidness)