Chorus ($ir Jermias)

Getting blazed, everyday

$ipping Ace with the $pades

That is how I celebrate, you can blame it on my race

Fucking yea, Imma bathe with my golden fucking rings

Goddamn right, I was raised to be mothafuckin' king

Verse ($ir Jermias)

$o tell me why the hell you wouldn’t let me in (Now Hol' Up)

I give a fuck about your reckoning

I turned my record in (You threw my record out)

I turned it back again and now you holding out

(Now I don’t wanna hear it) Let the fans talk

(Let the beat bang) Let me hold it down

You told me go north, fuck it I’m going south

You talk that shit again, I’ll slap in out yo mouth

For fuck sake, the fucks I give just don’t exist

The up$ide is, I don’t even bone these chicks

My chick is a goddess, the king is a god

And the game I got it on lock

I don’t pay no mind, my wallet is mindless

Fuck you and thank you for your kindness

See you on the flipside you flipsiders

You bitch you, we drink gin straight, you $ip ciders

We $moke indoor, you smoke outdoor

You outsiders!

Chorus

Outro ($ir Jeremias)

You're fucking idiots

This for all muhfuckas doubtin' the kid tho

You're fucking idiots

Call me $ir Jeremias

You're fucking idiots...

Skit

(Door knock)

Mr.Record Label:

- Come in you tool

Doorman:

- Mr.Record Label your next appointment is here

Mr.Record Label:

Let him in…Sit down son sit down…All right, let's cut to the chase…

So hat should I call you?

$ir Jeremia$:

(Hmmm my name is Edson sir, but you can call me...)

Mr.Record Label:

Ok, all right.. show me what you got, then