text: Far from a rookie, man Im far from an amateur
  Rappers hit the booth and then they turn into characters
  Word to my record label, word to my manager
  Life is like a fucking red number in a calendar
  Every day a holiday, Im buttoned up, my collar straight
  We Disturbing London make them niggas do geography
  Same Nikes on but nigga mine are different colour, wait
  Now my face up in the Source and I aint talking hollandaise
  Yeah I just shitted on em
  I like my women nice and thick with no knickers on em
  Every message on my phone has got some kisses on em
  All my shows sold out, no tickets for em
  All them niggas is my sons 
  I just shitted on em, I got the runs
  All I see is numbers, nigga sums
  I number twod on number two, one
  All these bitches is my sons
  And Imma go and get some bibs for em
  A couple formulas, little pretty lids on em
  If I had a dick, I would pull it out and piss on em
  Let me shake it off
  I just signed a couple deals I might break you off
  And we aint making up I dont need a mediator
  Just let them bums blow steam - radiator
   Shitted on em
   Man I just shitted on em
   Shitted on em
   Put yo number twos in the air if you did it on em
   Shitted on em
   Man I just shitted on em
  Shitted on em, put yo number twos in the air if you did it on em
  This stone is flawless: F1
  I keep shooters up top in the F1
  A lot of bad bitches beggin me to eff one
  But Imma eat them rap bitches when the chef come
  Throw some fresh ones
  More talent in my mufuckin left thumb
  She aint a Nicki fan then the bitch def dumb
  You aint my son you my muthafuckin step-son
   Shitted on em
   Man I just shitted on em
   Shitted on em
  Put yo number twos in the air if you did it on em
   Shitted on em
   Man I just shitted on em
  Shitted on em, put yo number twos in the air if you did it on em