text: Got all the Black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla
  She tryna get her groove back like Stella, grab the umbrella
  When it comes to your perception of my shit, Im Helen Keller
  When it comes to the perfection of my shit, I know you smell the
  Rectum, Im like a chromosome, I always X em
  Like Wolverines stepson, attacking a deadly weapon
  Im opening a church to sell coke and Led Zeppelin
  And fuck Mary in her ass— Haha, yo
  Im fucking Goldilocks up in the forest
  In the three-bear house, eating they motherfucking porridge
  I tell her its my house, give her a tour in my basement
  And keep that bitch locked up in my storage
  Rape her and record it, then edit it with more shit
  Octopussy, special effect, direct
  Bitches, we banging, and please never disrespect my set
  With Canons hanging from our necks like its a motherfucking circus
  You little niggas better check my French 
  Ugh, you getting money? Better check my French 
  Uh, what time is it, huh? check my French 
  If you got my shit, you better check my French 
  Im making moves, sh— check my French 
  I speak English, but check my French 
  Your ho be on my penis, she check my French
  Bitch!
  I guess I left my dignity up in the cupboard
  Cause every girl Im digging
  When Im digging in her pussy, Im never using 
  But fuck it, I guess I gotta stretch it out like it was flubber
  And leave it dripping green and red like double cheeseburgers
  Chewing on cum like bubblegum from Hubba
  This bitch knew dick like Bubba knew shrimp 
  Yeah
  Yo, Im seventeen, already sniffing blow
  I tell my friends its asthma every time I start to itch my throat
  I got a new show for MTV: Pimp My Boat
  Because some bitch said my semen was dirty, that silly ho
  The most that they can do is fine me
  Im hiding, somewhere where Chris Stokes cant find me
  Oh no, Mr. Stokes, I dont like misters, no
  Dont tell R. Kelly where my little sister go
  You little niggas better check my French 
  Ugh, you getting money? Better check my French 
  Uh, what time is it, huh? check my French 
  If you got my shit, you better check my French 
  Im making moves, sh— check my French 
  I speak English, but check my French 
  Your ho be on my penis, she check my French
  Bitch!
  Yo, you little niggas better check my French
  I got all-stars, and you can check my bench
  Left Brain, Super 3, Creator Ace
  Put expressions in the music and create the face
  Of the picture—punchline, figured out, Ahh, I get you
  No, you dont, nigga, so why dont you gon figure?
  You seem confused anyway, pressured enough?
  You the type to do the choke when the pressure is up
  The pressure is the pump, and the pressure is us
  Bitches having eargasms, and the pleasure is us
  Niggas wanna be O.F. and write letters to us
  Competitions competition, yo, you better than us?
  Digest what Im saying? I dont think so
  We sick shit, throw it up down in the sink, yo
  These Odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink flows
  We think sorta odd, so we think so
  Crusing in my go-kart at Walmart selling cupcakes
  Go head, admit it, faggot, this shit is tighter than butt rape
  That involve Ballpark Franks and silver duct tape
  Pornos, some hormones, and boxes of DiGiorno
  You homos is loco, you probably drinking Cuervo
  With some vatos, with the door closed, watching Zorro
  You homos
  O.F.
  Yes
  So, are you dating anyone right now? You know, or...
  No, Im— Im just playing the field, just for now
  Ah, so... Im guessing shes white, since shes vanilla
  Haha