When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Press delete)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Get out my face)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Yeah, I don't play)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Aye, yo, gimme space)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Press delete)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Get out my face)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Aye, yo, gimme space)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Yeah, okay)

When I crash hit Ctrl, Alt, Delete

I'ma leave you all under me deceased

I ain't with the fuckery, ain't comparin' me

Stole the fuckin' show, this a hold-up, this a burglary

Aye, aye, line 'em up and hit 'em with that .45 and that K.K.

All these little rappers, they just copy, and they paste, paste

Stay the hell away from me, bro, I need all the space, space

Put you in your place, ain't no goin' backspace (Spacebar)

So, your bitch wanna know where my casa is

So, I told her meet me somewhere at alas-sais

Made her spread her legs while drivin' on a longcut

That's what you get tryna stop us using shortcuts, yeah

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Press delete)

Do my dance, then I flee to the scene (To the scene)

Rub my hands when I see enemies

'Cause you know what I'll be doin' when I see them motherfuckers

Talk that shit, boy, you finna be deleted on the scene, boy

You're good at scrappin', maybe on a Gameboy

When I crash, I don't have any control overrides

And the system no refresh at all

Act like a NPC (What?), you should know your role (Okay)

Your mind is like a bot, roaming on your own

Kill them twice, no revives, see no light

I'm the master in this shit, no more lives, no more lies, uh

Always makin' tracks that might go well

Fusr is a boss, not like Michael

Michael who? Michael Scott, he's Steve Carell

Gotta get my stripes like a gazelle

Twenty-eight medals like Michael Phelps

Me and my kawals never take no L's

Never AWOL, never say farewell, but well

Gotta go pack my bags, huh

Gotta get back to Sac (Okay)

Gotta work hard, workin' abroad, packin' up racks and racks (Yeah)

Gotta get carts at a Walmart, I'm tellin' you facts, no cap

Every day, back-to-back, I don't slack, that's whack

All your fuckin' posts are whack, and you'll get no likes for that

Triple six on the number-pad, I'm the demon on your Mac

You ain't witty even on that QWERTY

Soaking on that social media shit won't get you plenty

This ain't G.T.A., you ain't got no lives to play

If you wanna be a robber, better hide your face

Vice's all over the city, Tommy with the yay

Hit 'em with K, so you better pay

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Press delete)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Get out my face)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Yeah, I don't play)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Aye, yo, gimme space)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Press delete)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Get out my face)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Aye, yo, gimme space)

When I crash, I Ctrl, Alt, Delete (Yeah, okay)