text: Kells
  Who the fuck want it with him?
  We ball like the Indians at the World Series 8th inning
  Im gone, rolling with Nicole Kidman
  I hit the pussy like a bong, fuck show business
  We in the jungle with the guerrillas
  We in the streets with the 4 wheelers
  Dont speak I am no witness
  You got beef?
  Put an end to you talking like long sentence, period
  Motherfucker Im serious
  Who ya favorite rapper, Im curious?
  He aint living out them words
  He aint used Machine Guns verse on the track cause his ass got murdered
  Im talking in the 3rd
  Im talking to a stealer and he aint from the Burgh
  You talking to a Cleveland motherfucker in the first
  So you better not get on my nerves, biatch
  I need herb tho, keep me moving like turtle
  Keep me seeing this purple
  Keep it banging like Kirko
  Work something, twerk something
  Bitch fuck me now she worth something
  Gas tank on E, it aint worth fronting
  Try to stunt on me the worst coming
  Motherfuckers gonna need some plumbing I am the shit
  And I feel like eating something
  Feeding my stomach
  Give me a rapper, make it a hundred
  Fuck it, give em the hubble telescope
  They couldnt see the youngin
  No, fuck it let em get a lil something
  Bring em to the block do a lil stuntin, that aint nothing
  Everywhere where I go Im putting on
  I aint bluffing
  Everywhere where I go Im putting on
  Bitch I run it
  Kells
  This song got a motherfucker feeling like Pac tho, 
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rollin
  This song got a motherfucker feeling like Pac tho, 
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rich
  Picture everybody with a picture of me hangin on the wall like Prince
  Picture your favorite R&B singer
  Lookin at a picture on her phone of my big ol dick
  Picture me living like Biggie
  The real Frank White, Im the king of my city
  Picture all this shit starting as a dream
  Staring at a picture of Martin Luther King
  Bitch thats my reaction
  Trying to make it happen from rapping
  Trying to avoid me a casket
  Half of my kin-folk caught up in traffic from trapping
  My whole squaddone turned to a fraction
  Cause Tony Montana right up the block from us, dawg
  Its hard not to get caught up in it at all
  Hard not to ball
  Sales for yayo, then jail, then someone goes talk to the law
  Please God tell me it aint true
  Tell me name on that paper work aint you
  If you aint snitching then why is you home
  Stupid decision bitch better get gone
  3 in the morn, I cant get rest so I turn over pick up that .38 special
  You bust in my door, then I bust at your neck hoe
  25 stranded on death row
  This song got a motherfucker feeling like Pac tho, 
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rollin
  This song got a motherfucker feeling like Pac tho, 
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rollin
  Picture me rollin