Yeah, oh

Check me out, look

It goes love, hate, pleasure and pain

Four albums in the can and I'm still in the game (What up?)

The last album, they don't like me to tell this

Debuted number one and sold more records than Elvis (Shut up)

That's what they telling me, switch up your melody

Through with misdemeanors they tryna give rappers felonies

So they can lock us up, one at a time but true

Writers stay free in every one of our lines

And if you not feeling I'm the cream of the crop

I'll knock rappers off your list until I get to the top

Still you're looking at a man who's financial stable

Only **** getting tax cut from four different labels

That Pillsbury dough, women poke my gut

Still I walk around the streets like I'm broke as fuck

So if you see my in your town and I appear to be moody

It's 'cause I'm thinking bout plans that's bigger than Serena booty

Me and Shakka still starving and looking for meals

And heads up, Ludacris is almost out of his deal

I'm over ten million sold, every album is crack

And for now I'm bout to carry deaf jam on my back

Mad rappers, I hear you talking way down at the bottom

Though I make big money, still handle small problems

The rambling out the mouth, I don't play that shit

I'm the best and I ain't really gotta say that shit