[Verse]
A middle finger to the haters
'Bout to put them niggas in the paper
Give me the light, we finna turn it to Jamaica
Niggas chokin' off the vapors
Niggas like Geppetto for real, boy, and real toys'll let you see your maker
As-salamu alaykum, I'm the god like the savoir
I'm just caught up in the rapture but I'm not Anita Baker
I'm the coach and the player, 'Bron with the Lakers
When I pass to my son, then they really gon' hate us
Run the city like the pacer
Never met John, but I'm thе mayor
Got a saber like my name was John Boyеga
I'm just tryna get this paper
Tryna do it safer than puttin' the mask on Tyler, the Creator
And if one of these majors try to enslave us
Fuck Scru Face, Nat Turner's what my name is
'Cause I'm too melanated, they try to eliminate us
But bitch, I'm back for my mule and my acres
Judge what I'm playin', jury's what I'm playin'
And the executioner, my nigga, I'll slay 'em
I'd even be the bailiff, niggas Skip Bayless
If unc' ain't fuckin' with you, you ain't really that major
Views and ratings startin' to hurt your savings
No more promo, no more payments
You was really 'bout to make it
But out of sight, out of mind, and now you niggas out of paper
Haha, player, haha, player
All out war for all invaders
Y'all done used up all your favors
All I'll say is, "Y'all in danger," ugh
They like, "Why you ain't droppin' more raps, bro?"
I just made a half a million, sorry baby, I'm back though (Haha, Face)
Boy-boy ran into them crash outs, he like, "I thought I was dead"
They don't talk, they just gon' mash out, he like, "I thought I was dead"
Hit the gas until he passed out, he like, "I thought I was dead"
This the type of track I blackout, he like, "I thought I was dead"
Haha