Hey, bitch, I'm dead fresh, I might pull up in a casket You be lookin' sweet like a fuckin' fruit basket Spit a couple raps, I get a check at Johnny Cash Shit, I smash it, I let your mama ride my sunglass I don't think nobody gonna fuck with me like I do You can be killin' it, motherfuckers always talkin' But dammit, I'm high too, dammit, I don't give a fuck Yo, I wanna stunt, I make your salary thrice in a month I pay your daddy to roll up my bus And he blow your allowance to pay for my lunch You ain't with the shits, you ain't with the shits You ain't with the shits, you ain't with the shits Ramirez, where's your bitch? He's ridin' the back of the truck with a pump With a mascara in my face Double the Glock as I rip through the flesh Inside of the cutty, one thing on my waist Kick in the door, put me to the safe Fuckin' the buses, I went out of place He sick and muscles, I load up and hit you I carry the coffin and drop it to grave You ain't with the shits, you ain't with the shits You ain't with the shits, you ain't with the shits Puyo, where's your bitch? I'm in my zone, I'm in my element That's daily regimen I'm pullin' up the grave at mama house Went perfect at a kilo, bitch Hey, mom, look, the boys are back in town Lil' bitch fucked that They be tryin' to kill me cause my buck's fat My new bitch so thick that I got lost up in the butt crack I'm ready to get my gloves back Hop back in the ring and I run that Rid of them off their love pack I'm bouta be gettin' my sons back Smokin' up on that swamp sack Cut back on the lack of the Prozac Pimpin' these bitches, I'm breakin' them off As I'm hangin' up off my nut sack Baby, boom, got a phone to pick with you, yeah Hold up, Ricky, Bobby, I'm jacked up on Mountain Dew, yeah You ain't with the shits, you ain't with the shits You ain't with the shits, you ain't with the shits Trippie, where's your bitch? Woah, mozzarella marinara Put that shit up on my pasta I just got the Panamera, uh Only flexin' cause I gotsta Blow some dope, I made a water Shark boy to the larder Come favorite mother and daughter Puffin' the indica harder I just fucked your bitch in the back of my 96 DeVille Woah, woo-hoo Ayy, bitch, I'm dead fresh I might pull up in a casket You be lookin' sweet like a fuckin' fruit basket Feel like I'm Houdini when your sister let me smash it I dive up in the Gucci handcuff for ten minutes Blindfolded, then escape, that's magic, bitch Thanks for watching!