What nigga says he′s going to be a fucking rapper?

Are you kidding me?

That's how you′re gonna fucking support your family?You don't got any subscribers on YouTube

Are you fucking kidding me?

You have no subscribers

So how the fuck you gonna support a family-

Hey-hey-hey, he has ten

I remember days at my grandma's house

Sleeping on the couch, whole fam′ on the ground

Dirty lil′ bitch in the backtalk down

But her friend sent a pic with her ass all out

Got 'em all mad, get a bag, you broke

I been off that, it′s sad, you know?

Seen you on the Gram', stand back, bitch pose

I′m about to shoot a mag, click-clack, you vogue

Said you don't need a scrub, that′s why you a stank hoe

I don't do the club, rather pull up to the bank, hoe

You won't get a crumb from me, pockets on that Panko

Shawty want the love, feeling up like it′s the tank low

Lame hoe, better lay low

Looking like a peso, keeping it a banknote

Better take notes, I been all about a bankroll

Check the payroll, I′m an a-hole, but I ain't broke

Lately, I been like, "Fuck you, pay me"

Hate me all you want, bitch, go crazy

Ladies all on my dick, too hasty

Save me, all of them want my baby

Daily motherfuckers talk fugazi, shady

Talk shit? Bitch, 180

Face me, nothing you say gon′ phase me

Wake me when somebody don't betray me

Long time comin′ and I'm better than I ever been

And I got my team on my back like a letterman

They ain′t wanna let him in

Left me in the rain with the mic, something like I was a weatherman

Running up the paper like the pacer

Torn ripped Chuck Taylors, the fits tailored

Treat a bitch like Tracer, never chase her

Fuck the game, I could knock it up the way I'm puttin' in labor

Now run it back one time

I was down bad, but it runs in the bloodline

Shoot it out back, think it′s done, but it ducked by

I would shout, "Dad" but nobody once come by

Never been a tough guy, never sold work, ′cause I did it

Yeah, I bust mine but got hella friends moving tree like a mudslide

Bussing motherfuckers like a table when it's lunchtime

So without rap, you would see me in the front lines

I′m that motherfucker used to being in the background

No one understood me, now they feel me like a pat-down

Once was a rookie but got a bag now

Hip-hop champ, need the belt like a bad child

No time for bitches who wanna act out

Or these motherfuckers befriendin' me for a handout

What I need is when I look into that crowd

To see your head bob like a bitch when I glance down

I know you mad, I know you still want me back

I know you keepin′ them tabs on all of my raps

That shit is pathetic in fact, that shit is embarrassin'

Talk to your therapist, you and yo′ mama can suck a fat hairy dick

Where was the parenting? Choke on yo' arrogance

Me and yo' money, there ain′t no comparison

Ha-ha-ha, yo

Ah-hah-hah

Fuck that n-