(Verse 1)

These rappers cold, they be frostbiting lyrics while I’m puttin in this work for the spotlight appearance

I be at it everyday, trynna make this shit a livin’ so I’m giving them all infinite lyrical ammunition, bout to rise up

Showin’ ‘em what I’m about now, got so many bars, I’m beginning to lose count now

I’m about to b-b-b-b-b-break it down for these fucking clowns who judge me because I’m brown

I ain’t the looks but I ain’t got the whack raps, nowadays, dope is a pussy in a SnapBack that’s what I call cat in the hat

Just another fuckin’ punk in a wig, where you at, huh?

Imma take you out of space, into my head, go to outer space

Meet some of my alien friends, shoutout to F8L

I’m like a starvin’ lion, I haven’t ate in days

Take the candy out, eat these rappers and say my prays

Fallen victim to a crime, trynna paper chase

Ideas come out in the dark, so I stay awake

In the nighttime, I’m write rhymes, this is how I fight crime

Give every inch of me into my music, I’m on my grind

I’m a baller till the death of me

No complexities

I hit the track and I got it screamin’ the melodies like

God damn, god damn

I will never cower down to no competition

I solemnly stated that I will never fall a bitch, so don’t think otherwise and motherfucker, you the opposite

(Hook)

No you can’t do what I do

You cannot be what I be

I feel so up right now, don’t try to bring me down to your level, trick, fall back (x2)

(Verse 2)

I’m livin’ life like I’m immortal

No fear of death, no fear of failing, only fear I’m normal

I figured that I’m different when I visioned flicking midgets with my fingertips

Then watch ‘em cry, then pick em up because thats adorable

Science says my mind is just a side effect from my own breath

When the mic turns on, it turns me on, I guess I got a rhyming fetish

I’m infectious, I surpassed all sicknesses when I was seven

When I turned on Dora and imagine that I sliced her neck, that’s facts

And I’m just having some fun

I be throwing up these rhymes like some cash in the club

I be throwing up these rhymes like I puked on the mic and I’m Sniper J, the bullet goes to whoever’s in sight

I’m a true spitter, who’s been a true winner

Devour these rappers, looks like I got some new dinner

I’mma murder fakes while I do sit-ups and fuck ‘em with news that I banged a giraffe with the same two fingers

(Hook)

No you can’t do what I do

You cannot be what I be

I feel so up right now, don’t try to bring me down to your level, trick, fall back (x2)