Tekst piosenki
Mike Check
Brett Michael, have you heard of me? Spitting cut lines up and down they wrist vertically, I be in the cut so much I put the beat in surgery, I see all these rappers in front of me where they shouldn’t be, burglary
I’m going in with pinpoint precision, got two O’s twenty-four seven, your boy’s on a mission, yeah, I’m living behind all these bars and I swear sometimes it feels like a fucking prison, listen, management hitting me with deadlines, suicide bars, you just spitting dead lines, roll up the sleeve, check the Nixon, but how he buy it? Don’t worry, that’s on the Fed’s time. I’m a get mine, and they gon’ dread mine, ask your girlfriend ‘bout that pussy and she said mine, said my friends really wanna meet you and when you come home from work I guarantee that pussy greet you and I got that pussy smiling, eat it up we dining in, I make her come in under five minutes like what my mile in, I’m piling up all of my shit on my zookeeper and I bone her ‘til she dying, I’m the fucking grim reaper, I hear the big man calling me, he said get to the top, why the fuck you fucking stalling me? I outta be in-in-in-in the game running shit, you on some I’m gonna, I’m on some you isn’t gonna shit, you gonna quit, and they all be like how you figuring? People wanna end they life they just got put they finger in, click clack squeeze. “Alright, um…”
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