In the studio right now with Ebro, my nigga Rosenberg right here and he know, that me and Vince go way back just like Lebron hairline against somebody. Shit I don't know, I don't really watch basketball but I play with a couple balls, me and Vincent having threesomes, rolling up the weed crumbs. Niggas know that I'm dumb, niggas know that he's stu-pid and you know I stay there because it's stu-kid. Never leave the stoop, copped a new Coupe. About to cop McLaren after tall with no damn roof. And I be playing guitar, nigga I'm a damn star. Can't even walk down the street without damn calls of security following, and bad bitches swallowing, and niggas can't see the fucking ice cause it's hollowed-in. And shout out been balling, nigga making checks. Can't think of nothing, what's next? But fuck it, niggas know that I'm going hard, I'm getting rod, fat Eminem and a dark nigga from Amistad. And Sandra Bullock in the cut n' shit. What the fuck, my nigga Lionel buff as fuck and uhh any bitches in here with big ol' butts? Nah, this shit is wack, white girl got the flat one. Wanna point out the black one. Something, got me a stack of money inside the pocket, nigga can't hold no wallet, but know I go hard, know my wallet go yard with the Golf on it. Yeah nigga I make bread, I don't even rap about rape no more, that shit is dead. Now I'm fuckin bitches and coppin shit that's too damn expensive. N' everybody just hate the new shit, they never listen, cause I'm not sad, don't cry about my dad. But shit I don't know, getting ass-shots after tour, I don't know what is going