Lyrics
I’ll be shutting niggas up when I taaalk
But nothings ever gonna get done to me (mee!)
Y’all ain’t gon' do nothing at aaaall!
I’m a be talkin' shit forever man! Ever man, ever man…
Shut the fuck up when I taaaalk!
Nothing’s ever gonna get done to me (mee!)
Y’all ain’t gon' do nothing at aaaall!
I talk about your ass forever man! Ever man, ever man… Hh! Ever man!
Hehe! — Last name Voorhees, first name Jason!
Like a loaded pistol boy ain’t nothin' to play with!
You don’t want no problems, the drama be too horrendous
Fuck you and your feelings, you momma the who offended!
Pimpin' ain’t easy, but bitch I’m in the building
I’m the smack man! — I got a back hand like Serena Williams!
He hungry like them Africans on the TV asking feed the children
Even though he be eating like he Silician! (whooo!)
I sweat brilliance, I shit genius
You on fire till I come by you and extinguish!
I’m distinguised! — I'm bout to quit writing,
You 'bout to grow a set of hooters while a nigga just winging! (whooo!)
My dick swinging! — It's slappin' my leg so much the shits stingin'
You heard who better than me, bitch bring 'em!
Uhhh! — He stepped up like Rocky, he’ll probably be finished (whooo!)
He’ll go from looking like he Balboa to Rocky Dennis!
You thought you was winning 'til every tooth in your mouth is in
A pouch in your pocket, the next time you talk to your dentist! (yeeah!)
These lame nigga’s say they body’s is endless
Get in my lane they license to kill — is probably suspended,
UHHH! — I'm fly! Feeling like I got wings and I’m in the air
I miss my flight tell the pilot I said I’ll meet you there! (there!)
Cause he too rare! — There should be a sign on every vocal
Booth that’s says if Nickel-9 — choose to do your beat beware!
Last name (Pay Me) — first name (Fuck you!)
You collect and call me by my alias, it’s?
Find me with your bitch my dick out — with a mouth on it
Take her round the corner a couple times — put some miles on it!
Take her round monsters! — OG's that used to be slaves
For Reagen helping to fund the Iran contra!
Poster boy for gun wrap
I got all kind of rhymes done about my guns cousin cause I got — tons of them!
I ain’t no — industry nigga, I don’t do no events! (uh-huh!)
I got some red carpets that under my shoes in the Benz!
He so street — when he do it, the sewers is twin
He spit that shit! — He just spit it into the pen! (whooo!)
When it come to rhyming, I’m a Ducatti your dude is a Schwinn (c'mon!)
I don’t do parties and you? — You just do men!
My crew just too sick! Your crew got poopa scoop dicks!
My crew just drinking? chicks nigga! — Y'all ain’t gon' do SHIT!
Slaughterhouse dynamic is Ortiz too mature for beef
Joey kill you with his words! me? I do it forcefully!
Crooked is the smart one,
But don’t you get it twisted that nigga there he will kill ya! — Beanie Si' I
ain’t hear him!
When I brain storm actual rain comes
I am — one with the streets, I Sam — Cooks the beat until change comes! (C'MON!)
My brain got different compartments,
When it holds the ?, when it holds the explosives!
One just got a note in it that says on it homie knows that he dope he
Stay on his toes he ferocious, he hopeless the focus on me
With negative energy! — You'll only lose your focus! — I am not the best,
I am death; now let God and Satan iron out the rest!
Ha-ha-ha!
Ha-ha-ha-ha!
That’s the victory laugh.
Ha-ha-ha!
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
And since I can’t doin' another nigga beat…
But I try thinkin' I’m dissin' him!
Shout out my nigga, Drake!
Now get the fuck out my face 'fore I fuck you up!
