[Verse 1] Who the fuck is that ****/ Lookin‘ Like some kinda neo-retro rap ****/ Bopping like got a pair of headphones on, banging a beat/ But he don’t, I think the man trippin’/ What kind of glasses are them/ Look how his pants fit him/ he looks way too hip hop to be a damn hipster/ Maybe he’s an artist/ Probably comes up with dumb rhymes/ He comes across like he’s been weird for a long time/ Look lie he act crazy/ Look like he been a little spazzed since the actual 80’s/ Since highchairs and babies/ His mama probably figured that he had the ADHD/ But never medicated so he just kept creating/ Damn this ****’s a mess, ain’t he/ I mean look at the kicks, shits is fresh ain’t they/ Look like at any moment he could beam up in the mothership/ Rockin’ SB’s, but he don’t skate or nothin’, what’s up with him?

[Verse 2] Who that cat, yeah he wilds out/ Yeah that’ that rapper I be tweeting online ‘bout/ 7even Eleven, or something dealing with time/ I don’t know truthfully but he’s rather ruthless in a rhyme bout I found out/ he used to rap ‘bout stabbing and clappin’ ****/ But now he’s all obsessed with time travel and zappin’ ****/ Or something weird always coming out of his mouth/ And he don’t really sound like he comes from out of the south/ 7even Tré Oh/ How come you ain’t say so/ yeah I got his old shit, I’ve just never seen his face though/ This **** sounds like a giant on records/ And he’s so spaced out, the planets move when he say so/ I heard he just dropped another EP/ I ain’t got to hear it yet, but I know it’s somethin’ sweet/ And it’s produced by some homie from over seas/ And supposedly, he’s Obi Wan Kenobi on the beats

[Verse 3] Look at these two geeks trying to be low key/ And it’s obvious they over there talkin’ ‘bout me/ I just keep boppin’ my head and acting like I don’t see/ But they staring too hard, they need to get they own sneaks/ I don’t know who they think I am/ I am not who they think I be/ That **** ain’t me/ I ain’t the 7 to the 3/ I don’t be murdering beats/ I ain’t no outer space freak/ I ain’t no strange being/ Aliens don’t ever speak to me/ I can’t be who I am and still get respect in the streets/ I don’t end no beef/ I don’t be reppin’ MZD/ You’s invading my space, I wouldn’t rock you in the face/ My **** don’t pop them “thangs”/ I ain’t as strange as they say/ Dropped the LP, and they said it sounded like Dré/ Out came the mixtape, said it felt like Jay/ Cause you see part of it’s an artist is inspired by the greats/ But at the end of the day, Tré just gotta make ‘em pay