Beatowski - Throwback lyrics

Knock knock, kicking in the door like I'm Biggie Smalls Triple B hoodie on, I'm the rap game Lonzo Ball Bringing back the 90s, I'm the white Arsenio Hall Stomping in my Timbs, break your legs so you gotta crawl Flow like I'm from the Bronx, call me Ghostface k**ah Spitting on an old school beat, r.i.p. J. Dilla I ain't from H-Town but my rhymes are way triller Your rhymes are dead like a zombie in MJ's "Thriller" Whip cost 17.5, same color T-Shirt Shouts out to Takeoff and the Migos, yeah they put in work I stay reppin the Dirty South, but I ain't like Joe Dirt When I leave my driveway, the Lambo make that skrt skrt I'm like Run DMC, yeah I'm rocking superstars Driveway on Justice League, got so many super cars Ain't afraid to throw hands, yeah I'm always down to spar Lupe Fiasco, yeah I got these battle scars RiFF RAFF without the dreads, I coulda played for the Broncos Got kicked off, coach said that I was too blanco In this rap game, you a peasant, I'm the head honcho Rari in the drive through, ordering a box of tacos It's the white Ugly God, I'm a little bit cuter Riding through your hood on a custom made Versace scooter Meet me after cla**, teach you a lesson like a tutor I'm best friends with Stephen Curry, yeah I stay down with shooters New era Richie Rich, yeah I cook with Fiji water You think that you are attractive but yo girl think that I'm hotter 50 Cent with the magic stick, no Harry Potter Murdering all my foes, give me a beat and I can slaughter Arizona's ScHoolboy Q, stunting in a bucket hat Pockets on weight watchers, doctor says my wallet's fat Got the pink polo on but I am not Kodak Black Living in a fancy mansion, tell me what you know bout that