Released: May 9, 2017

Songwriter: Nick Grant

Producer: Dr. Dre

[Verse]
I could tell by your dress code you extra hoe
I guess the rap game's 'bout who flex the most
All these funny niggas with cloudy jewelry at these award shows
Was never rich, but dropping gems to poor souls
Tap a super model, she bound to need Morse code
Screaming with my head in her box, it ain't a Vogue pose
God's favorite, a public enemy, love my women in all flavors
If I made it, we all made it
'Pac reincarnated, spitting on cam, fuck 'em
But I'm just me, I never claim to be the toughest
Ain't gotta tell fake dope stories for you to love 'em
Blood rushing like when a Russian, is hugging a Kalashnikov
Busting, cousin used to tease me, call me crack baby
Tell 'em nothing changed, still dope, baby
Lately, I ain't for the monkey shit
Shooters with banana clips, dumping 'em
Catching 'em slipping and peel 'em up at the family function and
Tell me who I'm up against, I run this shit
Nigga, the only thing could kill a legend is a double dish
Ride on 'em, me and Nickel Nine on-a ya
You know I snuck the thing in this bitch just like a foreigner
Pay no mind, it's no biggy, but shit I'm warning ya
The way I ball gon' make a nigga cornier
Tell the coroners "come", baby, there's been a murder
Never was underrated, nigga, I'm unheard of
You outta line like you ain't got a lotta drive
Fuck around and clash with some niggas you idolized
Bottom line, I'm a man with a lot of pride
Got my mama's eyes
From the ghetto, I'm traumatized, where I lie confined
As I watch my demons ménage screaming "I'm alive"
Life is a freak, I put faith is this lady marmalade
I just sign on the dotted line
It's for rappers who look like they get sodomized, you outta time
Hold up, OK, I'm back in business
Will never slack, I'm stuck in the era of trap pretenders
Who would have known
The underworld was filled with Master Splinters
Life is a bitch, my biggest distraction, the baddest women
My momma told me, nigga, focus on academics
I'm pistol touting, the biggest bang could slap a chemist
I'm Maury Povich, momma crying 'cause daddy missing
I'm back with vengeance, the label gave me no rapper image
I'm too authentic, I'm too much for the avid listener
The Baptist sinner, stick up niggas like Robin Givens
I'm from the city, they blow our brains, we optimistic
I'm dropping wisdom, no competition, the hottest nigga
I'm riding Phantom, with your bitch, that's a goblin visit
I went from no pot to piss in, to a pile of dishes
It feel like I'm Pac's apprentice with a pinch of Catholicism
The modern Jigga, the Nas mixed with the album Thriller
You dancing with the stars, the cosmos are out of rhythm
These niggas hating, my patience thin as these model bitches
I balls out my cash straight, I'm Skyler Diggins
Balls out, cash straight, you gotta dig it
I'm hotter then a lot of niggas, fuck it, all them niggas
I'm going nuts, George Carver, nigga, pause a nigga
Fresh like a Harlem nigga, man, what's wrong with niggas
Tell your baby momma she should call an awesome nigga
Ferrari Spider, shit look like it's just crawling nigga
I'm the man, did that shit with no father figure
My shooter Cole with the Tommy like watching Martin, nigga
I'm so for real, my jokes are deep, the sharks will giggle
I'm talking riddles, the game's a jungle, I'm Robin Williams
What's poppin' nigga we eating, it's time to starve them niggas
L.A. Leakers, what's poppin', it's time to starve them niggas
If niggas won't somke we gon we the coffin, nigga, bam