[Verse 1: IDK]
This is what you all been waitin’ for ain’t it?
What people paid paper for dammit
This that goin’ to the gun range with the click-clack-pow aiming
That boy from PG, but D.C. still claim him
And I ain’t gotta act like I’m from there, I’m real
Some rappers magicians, they trick you Copperfield
Act tough as a gold medal, you link them, daffodil
Meanwhile I’m just runnin’ back kick returns back on the field
Where the Redskins be losing but we gon’ support ’em still
That’s how you know where our loyalty at
So place a bet against me, where your royalties at?
I bet I leave your a** streamed of your 14 percent
Then f** on your b**h, my dick named Matumbu, I’m lit
I rub on her clit, she drip
Then I cum on her tits
How common is this to spit like a f**ing attempt, I’m murdering sh**
I flip, then I leave your a** flipped
I flip the script, then skip to your f**ing event
I take the check and dip, moments later it’s spent
You take the check and sh**, it’s enough for your ‘rents
So how the f** you telling me that I ain’t good enough, prick?
Uhh, I think that I’m top ten, top five, top three, top two, top one
And I’m still not done
Trump supporters’ daughter love me, so I still think that we won
She on her knees for that black thing no Kaepernick, I copped a nick
[Verse 2: Joey Bada$$]
This what you been waitin’ for, ain’t it?
It’s a portrait, if you can see the picture, paint it
I ain’t got to explain it
This lane, I done paved it (right)
I done paid my dues, now I’m just collecting payments (collect)
One verse, that’s gon’ be your whole life savings
If I was you, I’d be makin’ funeral arrangements
These bars, I could leave your mind in enslavement (what up)
Hit you with the bar that I’m raisin’
I come in guns blazin’ (facts)
We gon’ see who get the last laugh (hah)
It’s funny ’cause these n***as always trippin’ off the past (hah)
Think this sh** a joke until somebody get (swooped)
Choked off the very words that they spoke
List here though, it’s getting near close
‘Bout to blow your brain through your f**ing ear lobes
This one, the kid been gon’ for a while, they missed him
Patient with the shot when he blast off, won’t miss him
[Verse 3: Russ]
Somebody gon’ die tonight
Rappers see me but don’t say sh** like they don’t have vocals
And they be dissin’ on the socials like they don’t have Pro Tools
They think you up until you’re big enough
I guess the love was never real, as if I really give a f**
I’m already eight figures up
Y’all are in the minors, and I’m Willie Mays
Y’all still jumpin’ out of bed for 50k
I roll back over and continue f**ing all y’all’s favorite
I’m the greatest, and I’m not stoppin’ ’til all y’all say it
Courtside, closing multi-million dollar deals
Then we celebrate it, eat Italian thousand dollar meals
I’m in Le Como, you stay in NoHo, the hate is promo
I play solo, women take photos, ride me like they play Polo
My crew solid, new problems, my day ones deserve two commas
A few dollers moves nada, we still act the same, you not a
Part of the formula that put me here so f** you
When the second album drops, watch who they all run to
(Haha)