[King Just]
I'm like the phantom of the opera, last of the lobsters
The trees from the rasta, the smoke at the Oscars
Blaze at the Emmy, yo fuck the nominees
Starving artist, nigga, who spittin' rhymes like these
Please show me, youse a nigga 'pared to Kobe
Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bevery Hills, ask a foley
Fast or slowly, I leave your shirt holy
Or push a 500 like co-d, life acapulc-ky
Now ya'll niggas playing low key
Be the fake baller, and that pussy broad owe me
Rap trophy, got it, in every fucking lobby
Hit you up, my product, and we gotta split the profit
Put a record out, and I'mma stop it
West in the bank, I got it, KJ drop
Nigga cop it, I ain't got too much more to tell you
Bring ya Rambo life to Park Hill gun play
Act gay with features, and your punch lines
You want, permanent punch time from Optimus Shine
We the guidelines, promatic, calling you back
And let the world know, who taught you how to rap, you hear that?
[Money Grip]
One, two, three-in, lump out your chair
Three, five, seven, me'll leave out your hair
It's no use, call the cops nigga, know it's loose
All I'm leaving them is pulp, playing no juice
Empty out the safe, and it's condiments
Nine caught 'em til, sun light shine through 'em
Son school 'em, I order more rounds for ya
Oreo's with a little short sound for ya
Excuse you, why you steppin' to the don, for?
Gat palm, crack longer than an encore
Free and bust, try to indict, me and Crush
Cheese cops, cuz I'm in oh-deep, got
Comcast, love the way I harm tracks
Put you out there, know we got contacts
Cap peeled, tell me how that blast feel
That steel, got 'em laying in his last meal
Bezzy, vest make me look top heavy
Don't wonder on the war, you are not ready
Listen how I abuse tune, leave a body in ya backpack
It's gotta be a boom-boom
I'm like the phantom of the opera, last of the lobsters
The trees from the rasta, the smoke at the Oscars
Blaze at the Emmy, yo fuck the nominees
Starving artist, nigga, who spittin' rhymes like these
Please show me, youse a nigga 'pared to Kobe
Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bevery Hills, ask a foley
Fast or slowly, I leave your shirt holy
Or push a 500 like co-d, life acapulc-ky
Now ya'll niggas playing low key
Be the fake baller, and that pussy broad owe me
Rap trophy, got it, in every fucking lobby
Hit you up, my product, and we gotta split the profit
Put a record out, and I'mma stop it
West in the bank, I got it, KJ drop
Nigga cop it, I ain't got too much more to tell you
Bring ya Rambo life to Park Hill gun play
Act gay with features, and your punch lines
You want, permanent punch time from Optimus Shine
We the guidelines, promatic, calling you back
And let the world know, who taught you how to rap, you hear that?
[Money Grip]
One, two, three-in, lump out your chair
Three, five, seven, me'll leave out your hair
It's no use, call the cops nigga, know it's loose
All I'm leaving them is pulp, playing no juice
Empty out the safe, and it's condiments
Nine caught 'em til, sun light shine through 'em
Son school 'em, I order more rounds for ya
Oreo's with a little short sound for ya
Excuse you, why you steppin' to the don, for?
Gat palm, crack longer than an encore
Free and bust, try to indict, me and Crush
Cheese cops, cuz I'm in oh-deep, got
Comcast, love the way I harm tracks
Put you out there, know we got contacts
Cap peeled, tell me how that blast feel
That steel, got 'em laying in his last meal
Bezzy, vest make me look top heavy
Don't wonder on the war, you are not ready
Listen how I abuse tune, leave a body in ya backpack
It's gotta be a boom-boom
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