[Part 1: "Bad and Boujee" Remix]

[Intro]

Whatever, whatever, whatever

Mr. Porter don't trust you, I'm gon' bust you, nigga

That thang pop, pop pop

Whatever, whatever, whatever

If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you

Whatever, whatever

[Verse]

This that "your career's over" flow, for real

This ain't four-wheelin', roll with coke, heroin, 'caine

Bone chilling, cold with no feelings

Bangin dope-dealin-Hov and No-Ceilings Wayne

Ugh, started out like Nas, shoot guns

Heavy is the head with the crown

Slaughterhouse, my mind's two tons

Hardest out like John Q's son (I'm the hardest out)

And everything you say greasy

And made up like a piece of cheesesteak

And everything I say come natural

In this thing of beauty, like Alicia Keys face (Y'all just targets now)

How can I be hated in the streets

When I'm on even on my off day

I'm creative when it's beef, while you throw salt

I'm your baby mama and them new salt bae

I'll assault they, a la carte tray

Molotov through your restaurant window

Mr. Hyde, Dr. Jekyll, Nickel Nine, Ricky Grimes

I'm Sylvester Mindbender (This thing of mine)

I spark fours, that'll arch floors

That'll have whoever acting hardcore

Doing parkour, I'ma dog Porter

Brought the dog for, recording harsh thoughts for the art form

Taking me to your leader is like showing Chuck Norris where a glass door is

While I'm just tryna stay outta jail

That's war, I stay strapped for it

Y'all can run while the gats blowing

And if I miss your ass, then I guess you saved by the bell, like Zack Morris (Woo)

I'm on bando time when I ride through cities

Before my time, R.I.P. Bobby Krissy

Or Bobby, Whitney, flow K-Ci, JoJo

Let the Tech N9ne go KC, Mo., bro

I don't stand my ground, I just demolish niggas

Simple you against me you ain't ridin' with me

Bitch, not only do I kiss and tell—

I'm Orlando Brown when I describe them titties (Bitch I love them titties)

I'm the rubberband man, but I do more than count bands

Fuck sipping 40 ounces, I'm sober out here

Fucking hoes like 40-ounce Van

Nigga, I'm Pusha T doing quiet numbers

Getting silent money, I'll retire from it

I don't dress loud, I throw the flyness on it

Let the labels talk and Desiigner mumble

Like Donald Trump, throwing money hitting everybody and they auntie up

Trying to find someone to come perform for me 'fore I fuck the whole entire country up

I'm the first one gunnin', last one runnin'

Too enlightened for a check (Yeah)

Any rapper that want it, I'm Wack 100

Invite 'em to a scrap (Yeah)

I narrow down shit the Farrakhan way

You can find me anywhere the crime wave

I'm Schwarzenegger, you Sarah Conner

And your favorite rapper act like Eric Andre

Ryan's still alive, play it nice 'cause the drama still flies

Even when you shoot your little Uzi vertical in broad daylight, you still tryna kill God

I'm French kissing with a "bitch you" mentality

Voodoo and como talle vous

While I'm hula hoopin' dollars for that snarly tooth

My future look like JuJu in a body suit

When you niggas gon' admit it?

That I'm better than the young'un's

That I'm better than the legends

Never did I dumb it down or did I settle

I'm Rick the Ruler in every different measure

I ain't just the R, I'm every different letter

I can give your chick eleven inches if she let me get the leverage

I can be president if hip-hop would just let me switch endeavors

And I'm just having an open workout in Heaven

Tryna get me a good sweat

I'm Jae Millz looking up at the sky like, "Ayo, B.I.G, am I good yet?"

[Part 2: "Lockjaw" Remix]

[Interlude]

When you a fiend for the rhythm and the beats just keep callin' ya

They keep callin' ya

They keep callin' ya

[Chorus]

When it's hard to understand me 'cause my jaws keep lockin'

My parents keep callin', the Lord keeps watchin'

I'm standing on the corner with my boys, beatboxin'

And anywhere I go, all of these whores be jockin'

[Verse 1]

The dogs keep barkin' at the top dog

They already lost it, nigga, it's a lost cause

I remember when I had to pawn all my jewelry

Was so embarrassed by the help that no one offered to me

Zoning off the bottle, we only taught to fight back

We only talk survival, walking home, we just might scrap

All we did was write raps, tryna get so drunk

Had to get my sight back, product of the old gun

Made some bad decisions so early on in the process

I had people out to get me, my album wasn't even out yet

I'm talking 'bout the self-proclaimed "King of Detroit"

I seen some people reaching they dreams, some people destroy it

I seen people die at the hands of the violence of man

Seen people shot out the sky, being fly as they can

Seen 'em split the pie up and Pam sniff a entire two grams

Slipping, now we in your crib to tie up your fam

'Cause it's hard to really focus when you're tryna stack for ya

Lawyers, with those in power tryna blackball ya

It's hard to find employers like accountants that's loyal

With those who told ya they adore tryna back-door ya

You ain't on point though, one minute, you popping trunks

Next minute, you happy, man, next minute, you sloppy drunk

Every January 1st, the ball keeps droppin'

And I'm just celebrating it at the mall, we shoppin'

Celebrating friendships, "bro" this, "cuz" that

"Fam" this, "borrow" that, "loyal" this, "trust" that

Comas after comas that were alcohol-induced

If I ain't wake up from 'em, I won't ask what y'all would do

[Chorus]

When it's hard to understand me 'cause my jaws keep lockin'

My parents keep callin', the Lord keeps watchin'

I'm standing on the corner with my boys, beatboxin'

And anywhere I go, all of these whores be jockin'

[Refrain]

I had to bite down, bite down

A nigga had to bite down, bite down

All I could do was bite down, bite down, down

Bite down, bite down, I had to

[Verse 2]

Hundred-yard dash through the hood, talking money runs

Using that money counter, getting rid of them funny ones

You know the ones, too wrinkled to go in them slot machines

Throw 'em on the titty bar floor to lower a thot esteem

You could be the hottest thing and still have the wrong team

Sometimes, to see the bigger picture, you need a wider screen

I got the arm out the black beetle, beating the drum

Mannequin challenging whole families, viva la drunk

It's Nickel Season, the fever's begun

I'm savage, even though my tat is a knife, I'm keeping a gun

Loaded cartridges, stolen cars with the Lowenharts

Rip the game apart, and you are not worthy, like Wayne and Garth

By now, my life so righteous, I don't even sleep with groupies

I move like that nigga Spike Lee when he was Mookie

Back in high school, I really clowned

I said I'd do the right thing if Rosie let me ice cube them titties now

But this is realer than movie depictions

What you niggas know 'bout making a move in a beef and truly committin'?

It ain't no squashing it after you push a certain button

Make sure everything under your lip cut and your shirt is tucked in

Burning your beard away with Magic Shave

COs frisking your pregnant bitch, turning your kids away, that-a-way

That'll in a shallow grave, casualty of a cabaret

Daughter calling some wack nigga "daddy" at movie matinees

Even when we deal with Saturdays, my children still know that I don't want another man's cheap-ass ways on my doormat

And anything I do from legal to illegal

I do this shit the ski mask way, like I'm Lil Kodak

[Outro]

When you a fiend for the rhythm and the beats just keep callin' ya

They keep callin' ya