About time they let Mobarshi in the booth again

Spittin like a chick who claims she don't do this often

Let a nigga backtrack the coffin

I bet you I can smell the time of death on these orphans

Punches

No prom, but I'm giving out punches

None even directed, why the fuck they usin crutches?

Got the little ones, hiding back behind the porches

"Papa said he quit this life, what is it they wantin"

Tell em give the girl, or get drug out the back

In a sack

Chopped up

I'll make a profit on the black

Mar-Ket all the souls that I'm taken

I swear that I feel I'm in the matrix

I'm like neo shadow boxing with morpheus

Shootin a hadoken and the same spear as scorpion

I'm like a falcon punch bottled in a Fiji

If you rep the aesthetic than you losin to a Kirby

Pause

I'm hotter than a summer in Atlanta

In a sweater made of pandas

With a heater and a handgun

And these hoes think I'm handsome

Until it is a knife fight and I bring out the cannon

Oh it's time we watch a lion get his stride

So I challenge KG, not to fall into my pride

I treat em like Koreans, so just watch this

Clean the katana then I turn the cat to breakfast

So inspiring, derive into a monster

Then I take off in a Honda

Clean the blade by doing 90 in a Mazda

Got the club lookin like Hotel Rwanda