[Verse 1: Planet Asia]
Fuck rappers, ban 'em like flavored Dutch Masters
Your cuts after I listen to 'em with much laughter
Champagne slush, my campaign crush
Groovin'; powder Peruvian, black Nubian maneuver
I'm like Max Julien to cougars, with more racks than Hooters
Wasn't for rap, I'd prob'ly be head of the pack
Pass the straps to shooters
Pockets lackin' Gouda, that's when niggas pack the Ruger
I caught a cool run, my crew runs shit, Hilltop Hustling logic
Rock your pillbox, I still got a couple of projects
Niggas can't fuck with my accomplishments
The Don is supreme sonic, Ebonic, speaking in phonics
Reminiscent of hand-to-hand, runnin' for big knots
Now it's G&Gs all over my silk top
Amongst trappers, in the cuts, we clutch clappers
Ain't another nigga dapper, nigga, fuck rappers
[Verse 2: Willie The Kid]
Fuck rappers, niggas 'posed to been dead
Bled through the Band-Aid, I'm Pinhead
Hell raising, I lay blades, Clive Barker and Wes Craven
My neck's craving, I savor the flavor
It's savoir faire save my fear for the savior
For all the rest of y'all I gotta bomb, Jaeger
Especially you rappers, fuck all of y'all
I'll fast-forward them backwards, sick chiropractor
I'm hot like the sand out in Cairo, a pyro
Maniac, a klepto, brainiac, I'm zany
Poppin' like a Xanny, declare war, Cheney
My ho is like Claire Huxtable, hard lustable
All these rap niggas gassed up, combustible
Feminine internet niggas, fucking weirdos
Me and Planet Asia like Albert Anastasia
But we Asiatic, original fabric
Never fabricated, ain't got it, never had it
Used to play ball, now you want to be a rapper
Fuck rappers, ban 'em like flavored Dutch Masters
Your cuts after I listen to 'em with much laughter
Champagne slush, my campaign crush
Groovin'; powder Peruvian, black Nubian maneuver
I'm like Max Julien to cougars, with more racks than Hooters
Wasn't for rap, I'd prob'ly be head of the pack
Pass the straps to shooters
Pockets lackin' Gouda, that's when niggas pack the Ruger
I caught a cool run, my crew runs shit, Hilltop Hustling logic
Rock your pillbox, I still got a couple of projects
Niggas can't fuck with my accomplishments
The Don is supreme sonic, Ebonic, speaking in phonics
Reminiscent of hand-to-hand, runnin' for big knots
Now it's G&Gs all over my silk top
Amongst trappers, in the cuts, we clutch clappers
Ain't another nigga dapper, nigga, fuck rappers
[Verse 2: Willie The Kid]
Fuck rappers, niggas 'posed to been dead
Bled through the Band-Aid, I'm Pinhead
Hell raising, I lay blades, Clive Barker and Wes Craven
My neck's craving, I savor the flavor
It's savoir faire save my fear for the savior
For all the rest of y'all I gotta bomb, Jaeger
Especially you rappers, fuck all of y'all
I'll fast-forward them backwards, sick chiropractor
I'm hot like the sand out in Cairo, a pyro
Maniac, a klepto, brainiac, I'm zany
Poppin' like a Xanny, declare war, Cheney
My ho is like Claire Huxtable, hard lustable
All these rap niggas gassed up, combustible
Feminine internet niggas, fucking weirdos
Me and Planet Asia like Albert Anastasia
But we Asiatic, original fabric
Never fabricated, ain't got it, never had it
Used to play ball, now you want to be a rapper
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