[Hook]
b**hes on the left, that's right
Homies on the right, that's right
We ride in the back, that's right
We know we're ignorant all right?
I ain't trying to fight, let's write
I know you're trying to bite, that's right
I could do this all night
I'll beat you at your own game all right?
[Verse 1]
It's 83, sun shining through the rear view
Picture me, rolling deep, got a clear view
It's Pennsylvania love, California twist on it
I roll up on your b**h, yea she'll twist on it
Uh
Sipping iced tea mixed with ice cubes
Have a brunch of quail eggs with some quaaludes
With a duchess whose shorts you'd never sell short
On bail at Rock The Bells with Jordan Belfort, what
Momma told me pray for the weak
I ain't listen, now I prey on the weak
I can dream, 50k in one week
I'mma be rich, I ain't trying to be meek
On the freeway freeing up free will
Let it breathe, I'mma be real
I like my money dog, I don't try to lie about it
So do you, but you're taught you should be shy about it, what
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Lyrics' basically periods to careers
I capitalize every time I finish with the sentence
If I hear one more life's a b**h line
I'mma turn to Jack the Ripper dog, and end it
Guys are played out, sounding so dumb
But I hear them on the radio, how come?
This is sickening, they say I'm paying dues
Wading through the bullsh**, hope I make it through
Maybe I just jump on tracks and dumb it down
Make it for yourself, the real fans will come around
That's all I needed, now I'm going on a side note
I'm shoving my agenda, hope this b**h got a wide throat
Ethan Bence I'm k**ing every rapper easily
You need a ghostwriter? I will aid you like Eazy-E
Don't be mad at me, you hate the player and the game
We all slaves, don't hate the master, break the chains
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Ethan Bence, welcome ladies and gents
I don't got a whip, you push a Mercedes for rent
I don't gotta lie, I'm confident, I'm walking what I'm talking b**h
You're looking at the definition of real
And you'll never hear me spit about me gripping the steel
Or all the people I k**ed, or how it's real in the field
Or all the d** that I've done, or all the cane that I've slung
If you lived it, I respect it, if you didn't you're respect-less
I expect more from a genre so raw
This an art form, you only discredit it
The critics see a couple fakers and they write us off
And say the game is hedonistic, but they fed us it
Tune into a rap station if you wonder why
And then you'll see why every rapper who just wants to sign
Use the same formula, it's a vicious cycle
I never won, I'm the one, that's a typo
[Hook]