[Hook: Epidemic]

(x2)
I don't understand why they look at me
& follow everywhere I go asking who that be
Cause' homie you can be anything, but you ain't me
See there's one thing that separates you & me
That I'm a motha' fuckin' General


[Verse 1: Epidemic]

Everybody want to be a boss, can't
26 inches make your bitches heart break
A n***a got cake & a n***a got rank
Bet 100 round drum make a n***a block shake
Pictures of your guns, what you think it's MySpace?
My 9 ain't photogenic, it just sit on my waist
Look at my face baby, I ain't got a scar
But if you're acting hard, you can have one by tomorrow
Talking AK47, going through your garage
Going through your hoody & the hood of your +Galar-dough+
Is something i stack , man you front & I clap
This is fucking Iraq motha' fucka' I'm back

[Hook]
Keep playing with me I'ma bust y'all ass
Let off a 50 yard shot, & do a touchdown dance
Now that's the definition of getting put on blast
A rug for what? I wipe my foot on cash
Cause' I'm a Chardonnay spiller, Cartier enthusiast
Modern day villa, coffee with Peruvians
On the ocean, never motion sick
I'm a motion picture that's emotionless
With the vultures, sippin mimosas, my holster
Got the +heat+ & I don't need no Spoelstra
I'm +off glass+ I don't need no +coaster+
I +shoot fast+ I don't need no +post up+
I'm the General

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Epidemic]

Fuck a studio, I don't need no practice
All I hear is motha' fuckin' ringtone rappers
I don't need no back up, I'm a C-Lo stacker
Get your kilos jacked, my n***as re-load faster
Ground zero massacre, ready, willing, able
If you can kill a rapper, then I can kill a label
Bosses of the bosses have dinner at my table
You'll be in the kitchen, peeling the potatoes
You fairy tale rappers are sitting on a rainbow
Facing a tornado, with nothing but a raincoat
Put the mic down man, you knowin' that you ain't dope
Then Salute Me, you're in the presence of a General