I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha

Witcha-witcha, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha

I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha

Wait a GOD-DAMN-MINUTE, I ain’t playin’ witcha

I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha

(Settle down, think about it!)

I ain’t playin’ witcha!

(Say it louder! Say it louder!)

Wait a GOD-DAMN-MINUTE MY

Life’s a balance of knuckle sandwiches and apple pie/

Some don’t have that appetite/

Things you see ain’t as advertised/

Adversaries romanticized. Chances vary as status rise/

Lamb of God or Land of OZ? Now, that’s a gamble I can’t advise/

“Underground” I been classified. Made advances I still ain’t satisfied so I’m after mine/

Uncle, Aunt, to your Dad & Mama, I’m takin’ out the whole damn armada/

Pipe dreams since nineteen. Bookin’ time in that studio/

Fantasizing when I could eat, I’d remind you of Rufio/

Disgusting part is opportunistic vultures weren’t fuckin’ honest/

Lend a helpin’ hand to strugglin’ artists with a buzzer on it/ [BZZZT!]

But I’m done with modest/

I’ll bury a **** so deep, he won’t be retrieved til he’s spotted by Age of Aquarian Paleontologists/ [UGH!] My ledger is advanced/

Fresh up outta of fucks, deficit of damns. Hope your exodus is planned/

I should be hailed a prophet/

I dragged my balls across the scene like Tails & Sonic, with no exhaling on a cartridge, ****

I ain’t playin’ witcha!

(Never cower from a challenge!)

I ain’t playin’ witcha!

(Settle down, think about it!)

I ain’t playin’ witcha!

(Say it louder, say it louder!)

I ain’t playin’ witcha!

Wait a GOD-DAMN-MINUITE!

I ain’t playin’ witcha! I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha!

Witcha-witcha, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t plain’ witcha!

I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha!

Wait a GOD-DAMN-MINUTE!

Windows and doors are being boarded by conformists, as we speak/

The Demogorgon when recordin’ and my portal is the beat/

D.O.E. totals the deceased, as exorbitant endorphins are released/

My performance warrants floral at my feet/

I am thee God King, All-Father of my scene/

LeVar Ball-in’ offspring/

Every song is an art piece/

Compare it to Warhol, embarrass you cornballs/

Perpetually dust ****/

It seems you reached your cerebral limit/

You believe “appealing” ‘s a suite at the Venetian or Tahitian Village/

Where I’m seated’s scenic/

Tweetin’ while peakin’ at Parisian women who leavin’ buildin’s. This season, me and my Queen are building/

Features for legal tender. Pagans, retrieve your feelings/ [UGH!]

And they wonder why I ride alone/

So many knives at my back, you thought I sat on the iron throne/

As time has shown, your quote “best friends”, will Red Wedding ya, for that register/

Especially if they met you in music; it’s inevitable/ [For real!]

Agendas are wild, homes/

I swear I’ll retire I’ll retire somewhere rural, where the service is shittier than Firestone’s/

Disgruntled vets can rest their tired bones/

With nary a purpose, discontent steady worsens/

I’m lookin’ at every person like Mayweather does Larry Merchant/

Unlevied curses to events with heavy purses/

Milestones? This ain’t even my final form!/ [YOU FOOL!]

The hell with “targeted audiences” and “projected sales”/

This art essentially markets itself/

Partner, I’m comfortable/

I treat this culture like an apartment. I can walk In my drawers with a carton of milk n fart n talk to my self/

The ruler sans carpenter belt/

Hunger like an underdog/

Afro Thunder, “Call The Doctor”, for real/

See, I ain’t playin’ witcha!

(Never cower from a challenge!)

I ain’t playin’ witcha!

(Settle down, think about it!)

I ain’t playin’ witcha!

(Say it louder, say it louder!)

I ain’t playin’ witcha!

Wait a GOD-DAMN-MINUITE!

I ain’t playin’ witcha! I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha!

Witcha-witcha, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t plain’ witcha!

I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha!

Wait a GOD-DAMN-MINUTE!

These Quavo doppelgangers/

Couldn’t buzz if they were Michael J. Fox playn’ Operation/

Can’t relate, cuz yall are basic/

So-called confirmed suspicious, when I see these herbs in pictures/

I can tell that they like flavor, like Ayesha Curry dinners/ [Kidding!!]

All this rap about “ass & twat” and “ridin’ waves”, you’da thought they were Hasselhoff/

Catch & Release’s the only time that you ever tackle box/

Imposter careers get stomped like black American college stepping squads/

On top of shipment poppers, shit is monstrous/

Patna, I ain’t playin’ witcha!

I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha/

Witcha-witcha, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha/

I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’, I ain’t playin’ witcha/

Wait a GOD-DAMN-MINUTE!