[Verse 1: Ransom]
So many praying that Ran fell, you can't tell?
These people expecting Heaven but never could they withstand Hell
I Die Hard like Bruce Willis and Samuel
Sipping Champale and party harder than Manziel
Vodka and tonic got me thinking like Prophet Muhammad
I'm not an Islamic I'm a product of copping narcotics
I'm hot as a comet, hoes give me top til they vomit
Something exotic, Carribean, Dominican goddess
The shit is symbolic, powerful performances
Bars made of 24 karats, so fuck the choruses
Huh, niggas know I'm raw with the rhymes
Cause I'm known to off sides with these offensive lines
Leave em lost in the Vines, you thinking it's social media
I'm thinking it's deep in the jungle with hopes of leaving ya
Slitting ya throat and bleeding ya, you ain't got a chance to live
Smoke a nigga wig off, leave em just like a cancer kid (damn)
I know that I'm a little insensitive
Grew up kinda poor, we barely had any cents to live
Now it's Peter Luger's, cutting up an expensive rib
Cursing out the bums, cause I ain't got any cents to give
They saying I'm not the one
I leave em full of clips like the moon blocking the sun
When these goons cocking they guns, they don't even see the car
Roll around the mud in fatigues like I'm in Vietnam
So many praying that Ran fell, you can't tell?
These people expecting Heaven but never could they withstand Hell
I Die Hard like Bruce Willis and Samuel
Sipping Champale and party harder than Manziel
Vodka and tonic got me thinking like Prophet Muhammad
I'm not an Islamic I'm a product of copping narcotics
I'm hot as a comet, hoes give me top til they vomit
Something exotic, Carribean, Dominican goddess
The shit is symbolic, powerful performances
Bars made of 24 karats, so fuck the choruses
Huh, niggas know I'm raw with the rhymes
Cause I'm known to off sides with these offensive lines
Leave em lost in the Vines, you thinking it's social media
I'm thinking it's deep in the jungle with hopes of leaving ya
Slitting ya throat and bleeding ya, you ain't got a chance to live
Smoke a nigga wig off, leave em just like a cancer kid (damn)
I know that I'm a little insensitive
Grew up kinda poor, we barely had any cents to live
Now it's Peter Luger's, cutting up an expensive rib
Cursing out the bums, cause I ain't got any cents to give
They saying I'm not the one
I leave em full of clips like the moon blocking the sun
When these goons cocking they guns, they don't even see the car
Roll around the mud in fatigues like I'm in Vietnam
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