text: After filling my reputation of whore beaters
  Soared to Taco Bell and I ordered some gorditas 
  Wanted four more, ordered em, didnt eat em
  Then head to Thebes house for some gymnastics
  Fantastic, I backflip on this beat, B
  Cause we running shit like the Dingleberries on four cheetahs
  Flow colder than Papa Joes, old Dominos
  Fuck it, whatever
  Um... Trashwang scratched inside the knucks
  Got some One Direction tickets, I should hit that up
  Drive by with puppy signs plastered on the truck
  Then see how many of they fans could fit inside the trunk
  Move over the microwave and the cannabis
  Try to take the van and the whole band to Canada
  Fuck the block news and the venues, they cant handle us
  They cant stand us including fruits that Franks channeling
  The Ku Klux Klan see me and my managers
  But thank me when they ask where the Five Panels is
  Man, I suck now, I aint still dope
  But Chris and Rihannas fuckin again so theres still hope
  Oh fuck, I went there, balling bitch, Im Bens hair
  Yall barely breaking like Tacos self-esteem in a thin chair
  Old Navy bitches love this gap, yeah this grins rare
  Watch a nigga smile like five-year-old child
  Im kicking it with Nak and the nigga from Green Mile, its
  Red Bull in this cup so a nigga may seem wild but
  Thats just all the sherm I was burning a little while ago 
  Dont let me get hold of that rifle
  Shout my nigga Sage Elsseser and Sean Pablo
  Surrounded by them niggas that skate with a sick style
  And some freckled bitches with giant peaches thats vile
  They never did catch that rhino
  Squadron full of some lost souls
  Sergeant of all, its autumn and Nak just nollied a pothole
  Non-cooperative with his mommas wishes for college
  And coppers labeled a problem since paying for Damianos
  So shimmy through the swamp, nigga, follow me through the foxholes
  Moral Orenthal with a pretty bitch in a Bronco
  Hopped right off the seven and stumbled into some Vatos
  Threw a punch, got jumped, dusted off and then walked home
  Shit, its like 6 P.M. and his temple throbbing
  Hand in the cabinet by seven, sniff the prescription oxies
  Logo in the boxes, all my niggas hostile
  Cautious of your crosses, scoffing at your doctrines
  Bitches augmented, stupid, as the group is, only slightly
  Write precise to get a pussy nigga tooth chipped
  Man these stitches shut the loose lips, stumbled in a Ruths Chris
  Slid into a booth and hid the luggage from his shroom trips
  See, Lionel ball with Leonardo on the weekend now
  And Maui on a scenic route, we on the second season now
  Small fry got em seasons salty, weeded, coughing
  Ease up off me, end is breathing easy as bulimics barfing
  From a different breed of doggy, from a different seed and cloth
  And teeing off, believe its Golf Wang, nigga