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Hmm, nyah, nyah, nyah (Helluva made this beat, baby) Pull up on your bitch, decapitate her You ainâ€™t doin' nothin', Professor Procrastinator Yerky, it's an activator, really, it's an agitator, bitin' like an alligator Tryna be everywhere, you might see me on Jimmy Fallon later All that fuckin' LOL-ing, got a .50 cal' for haters TRX, you better move it in that lil' Navigator You the type to say, "Fuck it," spend it all, and stack it later Why you think you where where you at? Make it make sense Cuddy makin' real money off of making fake tens Shooter Mr. Put-You-In-A-Coffin, yeah, he make beds Yeah, I know I'm sick in the head, I take meds You the type to hear to some Sexy Redd, probably shake dreads Rude than a bitch, you would do what bae said Cuddy set trippin', pop blues and he drink red Last thing he seen was blue flames and an ape head Play it cool like we ain't fuckin', like, girl, you ate, friend What they ain't said? I lost my dog to the street, whatever Ray said "Boom," that's what the Drac' said Since he think he Superman, we gon' leave his cape red Shit, I'm good in the A, from Buck to Bankhead Tryna put my youngins in the booth, they stuck on bank scams Lucky we don't bring junk on them skits and start a spank cam Letras de cancionesI got the ups like I drank the juice off Space Jam You ain't never took the work and gave the white a spray tan Ooh, shit, we gotta go, there go that Ray van You the type to get your shit tooked and be like, "Hey, man" Level two dinosaur, you got the base RAM I can't even buy a bag of chips, sometimes I hate fans Three years without a cut, I'm turnin' to a caveman They act like they want beef, then they play ham So much pain built up, Esco got eight grams I was sixteen and hit Letgo for eight bands I just drank a whole pint, I'm dazed and confused Fuck around and raise hell, I'm blazed off the 'shrooms He went out bad, he ain't get a grave or a tomb Give his ass a spoon, hollows turn his brains into soup They all fire, but I need the most flame out the group In the trenches, still'll let my chain hang out the coupe Why you talkin' 'bout all the shit you ain't 'bout to do? Why you talkin' 'bout all the bricks you ain't 'bout to move? Think he had a sentry gun how beam aimed out the roof Phew, we just made him poof Prrt, we just made him poop To be a hundred, I don't know nobody lame as you Shit, you lame as hell, shit, you lame as hell Shit, you lame as hell, shit, you lame as hell Shit, you lame as hell, shit, you lame as hell Shit, you lame as hell, I'd hate to be you From Letras Mania