text: 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 dont know, I dont really watch basketball but I play with a couple balls, me and Vincent having threesomes, rolling up the weed crumbs. Niggas know that Im dumb, niggas know that hes stu-pid and you know I stay there because its 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 Im a damn star. Cant even walk down the street without damn calls of security following, and bad bitches swallowing, and niggas cant see the fucking ice cause its hollowed-in. And shout out been balling, nigga making checks. Cant think of nothing, whats next? But fuck it, niggas know that Im going hard, Im 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 cant hold no wallet, but know I go hard, know my wallet go yard with the Golf on it. Yeah nigga I make bread, I dont even rap about rape no more, that shit is dead. Now Im fuckin bitches and coppin shit thats too damn expensive. N everybody just hate the new shit, they never listen, cause Im not sad, dont cry about my dad. But shit I dont know, getting ass-shots after tour, I dont know what is going