[Verse 1: Smellington Piff]

I don’t think I would if I could stop

I should rock, I’m Santana at Woodstock

Don’t judge a cover by the bookshop

You play the bad cop, what the fuck’s a good cop ? (I don’t know)

When it comes to being rich, I’m this posh

I phlegm a greeny in your face for a spit wash

Everybody hates Piff like Chris Rock

So I feed them to the pigs like Brick Top

I’m really sick of all this shit pop

That they playing on the radio and saying that it’s hip-hop

I push the bar to the tip top

To see how far they can jump like Chris Kross

Houston, we’re ready for lift off

Boosting, hands steady with the pick lock

The hooded claw to Penelope's pit stop

The hooded claw to Penelope's pit stop...

[Verse 2: Datkid]

Yo, don’t ask me how I pull it off

Start me and I couldn’t stop

I drink sniff and smoke till I’m coughing like a woodеn box

Make you feel wool and soft

When I exposе you like i lifted up your skirt

In front of every man and took it off

And that’s me still awake from last week

I leave your car seats stained in my reach

From you bitch’s ass cheek

Because she’s faster than my heart beat, you smell me?

Ain’t shit you can tell me

You take L’s, I smoke L's, they’re both unhealthy

You can’t help me

Im way gone the timing on my side

I can’t think of no raps, too much vagina on my mind

Cider on my breath, I’m higher than the tide

Cause flood warnings, like Michael Jordan I’m done balling

Still I'm moonwalking my muddy creps on your mum’s flooring

And tell her mind how’s her son talking

I see a meal and stick my blunt fork in

Take everyone’s portion, without one caution

Wakmo

[Verse 3: Smellington Piff]

The grammar gets dark when the hammerhead shark

Starts ripping shit apart half bitten

Spitting darts at your brittle heart tripping like little mike

My riddle might cripple mics it’s a triple strike

The sickle slice tickles mice like you

You get mixed up in the pot with my thai rice soup

For acting up like tie dye suit

Fucking useless, I wouldn’t let you tie my shoe

[Verse 4: Datkid]

Hey Yo Piff send me that shit that’s my mic too

Before I start [?] like I can’t find my zoot

Black fill, chrome outline the outlines too

Police fly around the corner so I have to low the border no lies

I’m all over this shit but there’s no flies on me

Still hungry like there’s no eyes on me

Treat everything like it’s mine till it is

Then I’m liking a bit

You’re right if you think I’m sizing your shit, bitch