R-I-P Uncle Keith

Yuh, he's back

Y'all really overusin' the word gauntlet

Tired of that shit

Nacho on the beat while I'm on the sampler

Yuh

I think it's time to run up the facts

I'm like a JanSport costumer, motherfucker, all I want is a bag

And I ain't that **** stuck in the past, don't ask about me

Already paid 'em back, they money in cash

Even though I'm tough and honest, I'm goin' up in mileage

Another graphic designer promittin' in my comments

I'm like, I'm cold hearted and real torn

I been chillin' in cut like Neil Sprung

Grindin', wildin'

**** that I've helped still shittin' on me

A pound of baby moms still to hittin' on me

Don't over think shit, first, the crazy thing is hell no and that'll make shit hurt

She only do it out of spite 'cause

He ain't really in his child's life, but

I know that'll make shit worse

Turn a seed to a bastard

Speed in the fastest, brother in the fed like

Feed in the past tense

We gettin' pass when

June caught a murder charge, never woulda imagined

Needed money for his lawyer, man, I wish I had it

North-side Atlanta ****, no one under Capnee

Made more money than all my **** that were trappin'

These rappers were a purse and you act like it's fashion

Tyree killed, I'm on a feel, move in the fastest

My bitch bad, she might enter a beauty pageant

Told all my youngins look at the world, you can have it

Yo, told all my youngins look at the world, you can have it

Word for word, this is exactly what happened

Word for word, this is exactly what happened

What happened?

Yuh

I guess it's hoe season

When **** don't even know you but call you bro season

I really don't need 'em, don't know me very well

And even though they not laughin', they the type to text L-O-L for no reason

Trippin' I'd never fake my image

Guessin' I ain't poppin' till Soulja Boy say my name with a question mark

Get it

I could never hate you ****

My brother don't know how his bro manage it

I parted ways with old management, and my rote images

Got head from Celina Powell on camera

The academics said it was black, don't understand it, but

Lotta bad blood from that tour shit, more shit

Had to learn you don't run shit till it's your shit

Ask Pacquiao said what I said when I called him

Told him if I got it than he got it, brought marlin

He ain't have a dollar to his name, he was starvin'

In three months, shows gettin' booked, labels callin'

It's easy, though, I barely turn on the T-V, though

Before a **** watch Netflix, I watch Cece Show

Used to have people to see, oh

Now I'm a C-E-O

You ever had to take a test about a kid

Or a **** that you beefin' with come tell you where you live

This shit ain't never been like this

Yo, told all my youngins look at the world, you can have it

Word for word, this is exactly what happened

Word for word, this is exactly what happened

What happened?

Yuh

Just bought a crib for me to own

Got more people to leave alone

More interludes and skits recorded from my speaker phone

More questions about be some more

More trash ass, sayin' nah, sayin' they an artist that need a song

To each his own

More fans askin' me and Money Man why we signed to a label then left, but

That story's between me and home

Still think the north-side of Atlanta should be a zone

Pop's got fired, he was 'bought to retire and

Then come the smoke, hot outta the fire wind

I was recordin' this, had to pause from cryin'

When it comes to hits, I'm Mark McGuyer, got

Plaques on my wall from songs that I wrote for

Y'all favorite rapper, all for the culture

Y'all **** vultures, toss them a float, but

Now I want it back, I just fought my emotions

Wait for the time, if I was cryin' when I wrote this

What's it about when I wrote this?

What if someone died when I wrote this

Yo, told all my youngins look at the world, you can have it

Word for word, this is exactly what happened

Word for word