[Intro: Anderson .Paak]

And if it wasn't me, then who could ever?

No comparisons bitch, you could never

Say, "But fuck it, I'm retired," ho, that's my gift to you

Don't ask me what's next

Don't ask me what I'm getting into

Thirty-thousand

Say, "If it wasn't me, then who could ever?"

No comparisons bitch, you could never

Hey, but fuck it, I'm retired, ho

That'd be my gift to you

[Verse: Jonwayne]

Rode my bike around Hacienda Heights

Moved my ass to La Habra, started eating mics

Dropped the record and stay up in thirty Hyatts

'Cause the kid shoot the shit like a high fiber diet

I'm not the the type to wyle out but I'm a riot

I'mma ride it like a coattail, write it like a sales quote

Rhyme book flames, Dhalsim strain, Zangief grip upon the game

Just saying your boy's Super

Got that stupid that'll smack you out your Supra

Anyone in earshot the neck is like a tuba

And if you gouda, I can grant your wishes

Or else you get a bag of dirty J. Cole for Christmas

I'm up to bat, my hands are riddled with these blisters

They ain't trying to see me like a stack of dirty dishes

By the way, it seems my word been missing

I've been chomping on Chipotle and fuckin' a purty mistress

Living the life as far as I am concerned

Dropped a ton like Wile E. Coyote on birds

If you think that I'm retired, you ain't know in the third

You can make like Miss Muffet, eat a dick with some curds

Speakin' regal see 'em fleein' when they hear my beacon

Feeling like a bag of leaves when I get to steeping

Feeling like a f–kin' G when I get the bleep in

I'm on my private eye steeze when I get to creepin'

While you fake acts change your name with every season

My flame has been the same, I run the torch in every region

When I'm grieving I stay up writing these masterpieces

They want a piece but stop leeching, son, and get back to teaching

Why you think I grabbed the mic for? To start MC'ing

'Cause if you wanna look cool, sure, I can stuff you in the freezer

Save your time, space, and breath, the message is yes

If you don't got that heat you best done hop up out the kitchen

I'll boil you and your carrots up in that pot you piss in

If you don't stop me I'll keep going on just like a piston

Bring your boys and bitches, lemme paint this picture

I've been ill since DOOM was eating rap-snitch-knishes

And I'ma keep it thirty-thousand like my HP

Boss battle flow, I'm a legend for all eternity

Yeah, I'm a mortal though, I will die eventually

But don't get it twisted, you can spin me on a thirty-three

[Outro: Jonwayne]

Thirty-three and a third

'Cause I'm gon' s–

'Cause I'm gonna speak

Thirty-three and a third

And I may just speak until I'm heard, word

Wayniac