[Hook: Crichy Crich]

She gonna sell her soul for the team

Give it up for a little bit of fame

She thinks she found God on stage

But she don't even know our names

Groupie love is the best love

She's so gone off drugs

And they both got boyfriends

But we don't really give a fuck

[Verse: Crichy Crich]

Uh, roll some more killer

If I ever run out, I'mma ride the dope dealer

Burn through these trees like Gs on four wheelers

All about my cheese like keys to coke dealers

Hit the West Coast and flee to Coachella

Gotta lack on my back, the feeling's gorilla

Uh, that's Cruella de Vil

101 of us crackers with our hand on the wheel

Gun in your grill 'cause we don't give a fuck how you feel

Murder all you wack rappers, I'm just being for real

I don't need to co-sign, I'm just sealing the deal

Jesus piece for these pussies who lack in the field

Bla-ka-bla-ka, better back up, 'fore I slap you for real

If I was blacker, would this cracker need to rap for a deal?

See, the color of each other made the fans how they feel

Well, fuck that, it's time to bust back, don't tell me to chill