I ain’t from Time Square, I ain’t from Hollywood
But my hood can’t be denied, Just call it jolly good.
Yeah that was so last century
But, look they’re still all into me.
So, yeah, I’m all that and a bag of chips
You can call that Grippos, because I get those
Foreign cars and the model chicks
And after I whip those, just cut on my TiVo, but yo
Ya’ll don’t have to worry that’s just how I play
You can die hard, homey, Yippi Ki Yay
I am fresh like my first day, ya’ll my leave them thirsty
I leave ‘em famished, depleted and damaged.
Please understand, this is what made me, and
Why, if I might say, I’m quite the ladies man.
It’s not the Mercedez, eh, maybe it is…
Maybe it’s because the watch changes colors like the Wiz.
I don’t care who you con (UCONN), homey I’m not a Huskie
What are you on? None of you rappers can touch me.
I’ma be the dude ‘cause ya’ll always in the kitchen.
Ya’ll rappin like food and I’m feeling like Adam Richman
I’m looking ahead again, back to the future.
You’re living in the past, Wonder Years, Winnie Cooper
You don’t want to battle when I speak, they promise.
Give them a mic and where’s the beef? Dave Thomas!
Your verses are hit or miss, we’re prepared for a take 2
Your turning into Chris, man, everybody hates you.
They don’t like your words, your rhymes are for the birds.
Just the thought of seeing me on a track seems so absurd.
You’re not being yourself, that’s not something that I’m fond of.
Your playing Jamie Foxx but in real life you’re Wanda
I’m going in, ya’ll coming out.
Sagging skinny jeans, removing doubt
