Me and the truth ain’t nothing between us

Pray to my Jesus I pack out arenas

They knew I'm the realest when they seen my fetus

Dripping in Polo I’m smoking on Cheebah

In February I go Costa Rica

In Mexico I drink Manzanita

She always bring spice so I call her paprika

Shouts my Brazilians they in Curitiba

After my workouts I hit up the steamer

Then I count fetti up chill in my Filas

Plug sent that pack off my eyes like a demon

Multiply money like I am Houdini

I am low key they ain’t spot me ain’t seen me

I am a businessman profits obscene

I am not Nas but I want triple beam

I am not Wu but I do want the cream

I am not Mob but I’m rolling in deep

My business perspective is kind of like Steve’s

To get to my level the climb up is steep

I was in China for almost 3 weeks

I am not Kanye but this backpack rap

I’m like Mos Def yes a traveling man

Drinking my bottle big blunt in my hand

Be this way prolly til' I’m in my grave

Popping the molly the shit that I hate

Smoke like jamaic' stick to the pape

One minute that’s already late

Counting my chips like I’m Frito Lay

It’s Goyito’s way it’s the only way you pussy ass little motherfuckers still lurking