Check 'em son irregular

Ahead of the pack, chips in the brain

By 21, Living for fun

I punch cunts in the dum dum

Like bam bam, oh fuck

It's the thug life, thug living

Accustomed to drugs, and illuminati

Bust and run, coming for funds

AP Classes like molasses the flow smooth

Like butter, grab him

Bust and fuck, fuck her cunt

Heavy situation now, situated clouds

Listen to the sounds in the loud pack

That I breathe, and I sneeze back

WHen I fuck with couple g's

Grand fantasia, please lil cease

Attack, grab my pants

I got fucking crabs, wouldn't stand

Back unless i packed 10 gats in the back

Of a ziplock bag that i keep my green stashed at

Flying future man leave misses inside the cootcher

Hoochie couch mama's in the booty juice

Slipping in the whole foods, Flipping cash

For the losers, on the loose like goons who abuse

Sloots groupies grouped up jews

With loose tooths choosing up

See the googoo mama's of the groove bus