Whatever Dude Injury Reserve

[Verse 1: Ritchie with a T]
Yo, this been going for a minute
Cooped up in the dentist office, flowing for the tenants
I been doing some stupid shit like going to work
When I could do some lucrative shit like writing a verse, uh-uh
But it's okay, we gon' make it someday
Whether it's 2028 or Sunday
Do these shows for people that, they've never heard of me
And they fuck with me but then they see me when they try to cop some sneaks
At Foot Locker, working every damn day
And it's hard to tell people you rap, like "Okay
Everybody rap, my cousin Joe rap down the street
He rapped over that '0 to 100,' it's pretty sweet", uh-uh
Yo, so I don't know what to do
So I stack a bit of paper, cop a couple of shoes
It's therapeutic to a brother like me, what it do?
I haven't combed my hair in a couple of weeks, maybe two
Okay, maybe a couple of months, maybe 6
Same dude wearing dad pants, all white kicks
Got the pure money 4s with the silver eyelets
And a bad lil thing, she about 5'6", uh-uh
Yo, actually, I ain't got one
But them kicks that just dropped, yeah, I got them
Yeah, yeah, that's Ritchie with a T
But please don't forget it like a fat bitch at the beach
What's up?