[Intro]

Well, hi there, it's your motherfucking boy

I got DJ Chuck on the ones, twos, threes, fours and sevens

[?], oh yeah, ching chang chong no flex zone, motherfucker

WTF gang, get that shit tatted on your writst or your bitch or your kids, hold up, hold up, here we go

[Hook x2]

No flex zone, no flex zone

They know better, they know better

[Verse 1]

WTF is the best and it's just me, y'all niggas ugly

Trust me, I'm living like bubble boy, because y'all can't touch me

I'm playing rough like rugby

Everything I do they biting like a huskey

It's Futuristic, influential, man, he must be

I got the whole city saying sauce just because me

Y'all niggas all talk a lot, but you living in the shadow with the lil dudes

Size ten tennis shoes

Hating nigga fall back, I can see it in your eyes that you're fake, c'mon you're wearing color contacts

Been ready for combat, I'm a beast, you a wombat

Y'all niggas suck like the bobcats

No contract, I'm independent, kid's a menace, my album gon' be getting finished

Everything you do, I already did it and fuck a nine to five

I'm working from home, like I been suspended, yeah

Been pretending, but don't wanna admit it

I hear the lies you say in every sentence, you ol' broke niggas

The only way that you gon' get lil gold nd keep it a hundred is if you run a special olypics

I owe the game you attending, you lucky I let you win it

I'm doing what I intended, I promised every penny

I'm sorry if you offended, I'm off the chain, like a pendant

I ain't cocky [?]

You better than me, tell me who is you kidding

I get it, I understand the resemblance

You niggas like the Heat, you had a lot of talent on the team but you still not winning

So go back to your home, boy, where you rap for your homeboy

We set trends here and you act like your homeboy

Don't make me smack all your homeboys

Don't get gassed by your homeboys

Look at me and my team, we dressed up for the award shows

Meanwhile you at the park, when it's dark, smoking weed with a nigga in jean shorts and cornrows, playing corn hole with a white bitch

She look like the girl off spy kids all grown up

Niggas throwing shots, like Elmer Fudd

Niggas getting signed off dumb luck, trust funds and dance vines

I'm contemplating my next move, like half time

Cause real rap is out here, but it's like a lamp with no bulb we can't shine

Someone better than me, is what I can't find

No creative control, woah, I can't sign

I need that, and at least six digits

And a label who can keep pace with my fast mine

Until then you know it's Futuristic, two bottles and a few cool bitches

[?]

This a no flex zone, like planet fitness

[Hook]

[Outro]

Oh shit, that makes my fucking voice hurt

And if you don't now you do, motherfucker, ah