Ah, fuck
I run the world and back
You wanna talk to me you also talk to the sack
Buy a case of beer
I down the whole pack
Chillin' in my house
I whack my gack
White or black
Ah
Set you straight
Flick of the wrist make the economy inflate
Put the flicker on my wrist
Over getting a date
Put that package in my wallet don’t wanna procreate
Five, six, seven, eight
Put the cash in your gash
All my life I’ve been running from the past
Put the gun to my head and I’m gone in a flash
Bold brash
Bury the hatchet
Hard for me to not hit
Someone with a ratchet
Like having an itch and trying not to scratch it
Pipe in my hand and your kids gonna catch it
If he’s bleeding patch it
Afterwards I snatch it in my trunk, I lack it