[Chorus: Monstah]
Woo!
Jakey, you're snake-y, you're snake-y (You're a snake!)
Jakey, you look like you're eighteen (Jake, underage)
Jakey, believe me, you're cringe-y (Ayy)
Jakey, you probably got a small D (D!)
Jakey, you're snake-y, you're snake-y (Jake, you're a snake!)
Jakey, you look like you're eighteen (Underage)
Jakey, you probably got an STD (HIV)
You can bet on me, yeah, yeah, yeah
[Verse 1: Quadeca]
Jake Paul been cryin' like he is the victim (True!)
PR told him to diss himself to avoid criticism (Ayy!)
Embarassin', you probably did this 'cause your therapist
But you still racist, you really joked your fan was a terrorist, so arrogant! (Uh!)
I'm gettin' up on the track, there will be no comparisons
Sat down and listened, it sounds like you're sick, clear that nose, let me get you a Claratin (Yeah, yeah, yeah!)
You're from America, that makes it hard to say I'm an American (Ayy!)
Get out my area! This is faker than your entire marriage is (Ho-ho-ho-ho!)
Hilarious, dude, you literally got married for views, called up your girl, she don't care about you
Views is why you give to charity, too, views is the reason I parody you
Jake Paul, you a bitch, when I'm done with this verse, you'll be callin' it quits (Ayy, ayy)
Am I makin' you angry? You ball up your fists, so easy on yourself, you gon' call that a diss? (Yeah, ayy, ayy, yeah!)
Now your subs droppin' like you on a stage, you described yourself as "YouTube Dr. Dre"
Bro, you got to wait, I'm abusin' you bloody like you left Alisa back on a date
Oh no! That's something I need to set straight; I don't need you to fly me to L.A. (L.A.)
I just need you to never get in a studio ever again no matter how highly you get paid!
Yeah, Quadeca on the track
Woo!
Jakey, you're snake-y, you're snake-y (You're a snake!)
Jakey, you look like you're eighteen (Jake, underage)
Jakey, believe me, you're cringe-y (Ayy)
Jakey, you probably got a small D (D!)
Jakey, you're snake-y, you're snake-y (Jake, you're a snake!)
Jakey, you look like you're eighteen (Underage)
Jakey, you probably got an STD (HIV)
You can bet on me, yeah, yeah, yeah
[Verse 1: Quadeca]
Jake Paul been cryin' like he is the victim (True!)
PR told him to diss himself to avoid criticism (Ayy!)
Embarassin', you probably did this 'cause your therapist
But you still racist, you really joked your fan was a terrorist, so arrogant! (Uh!)
I'm gettin' up on the track, there will be no comparisons
Sat down and listened, it sounds like you're sick, clear that nose, let me get you a Claratin (Yeah, yeah, yeah!)
You're from America, that makes it hard to say I'm an American (Ayy!)
Get out my area! This is faker than your entire marriage is (Ho-ho-ho-ho!)
Hilarious, dude, you literally got married for views, called up your girl, she don't care about you
Views is why you give to charity, too, views is the reason I parody you
Jake Paul, you a bitch, when I'm done with this verse, you'll be callin' it quits (Ayy, ayy)
Am I makin' you angry? You ball up your fists, so easy on yourself, you gon' call that a diss? (Yeah, ayy, ayy, yeah!)
Now your subs droppin' like you on a stage, you described yourself as "YouTube Dr. Dre"
Bro, you got to wait, I'm abusin' you bloody like you left Alisa back on a date
Oh no! That's something I need to set straight; I don't need you to fly me to L.A. (L.A.)
I just need you to never get in a studio ever again no matter how highly you get paid!
Yeah, Quadeca on the track
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