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My mama already told me so I know I’m handsome (Yup)
So if I’m getting turned down, I’m throwing tantrums
It’s Gemini but the flow is Cancer, and money’s my anthem
So I ain’t stopping ’til my wallet’s like George Costanza’s
Please believe that
I kick ill shit that’ll get you higher than weed rap
Somebody ask me „P, where you be at?”
I be on chill my ninja taking a wee nap
Uh-huh, now lean back, you can all relax
I got it all under control
I feel a hundred years old
Shouts out to the rappers that’s on
I’d rather be overrated than underexposed
And babe, I’d really rather see what’s under your clothes
Woah, at ease. I expose wack tracks like bad weaves
Mine on a cash cream, my niggas is athletes
The way I chase dreams I belong on a track meet
That’s too easy make that triathlon
In a marathon, I am Louis Vuitton (?)
Meets Louis Farrakhan, and Louis Armstrong
And just for kicks just a bit little pinch of the pimp magic Don Juan
I’m past (?) and I’m on it
And oh you should try and hide
That’s a forewarning cause I’m giving rappers cyanide
Or I chloroform it, I put you niggas to sleep
You weak, you ain’t screet
Fan, your heart pump kool-aid, sweet
My G, you’ve been a rapper for about a week
So quit trying to compare your fresh ass to me
You’re fresh meat, your raps is my pet peeve
And next week I’m sure you’ll find something else to do
I’ma make sure the rest of this year’s hell for you
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