text: Coming out the bottom of the mother fucking totem pole
  Calling everyone who aint believe like I told them hoes
  Now they on my scrotum though
  And Ive been grinding so long its like I gotta blow
  Baby mama calling up my phone, what the fuck you want
  Cause I dont owe nobody shit stop askin
  Haters get off of my dick, stop gaggin
  They know Im schooling them, they tell me stop classin
  We already know that you the shit stop gassin
  Eck, and my flow is fucking sick dog
  Make a bitch cough like a sick dog
  Probably cause I spit raw
  No fucking with this boy
  Other rappers more uncool than when the fridge off
  Damn I think my lids off, more mental then Sig Freud
  Mind like a mother fucking-unsolvable jigsaw
  People ask my audience what you listen him for?
  Shit..cause I dont think Lil Waynes come this hard
  My God, then what that mean
  Since I aint son to nobody, then I must be king
  Cocky with it, cause I know that cant nobody stop me with it
  Wanna try? be ready to die, Kamikaze with it
  Fuck a prince, I know Im the real shit ya dig
  Cause aint no-mother-fucking-body done the shit I did
  Im the man where Im from, but they call me the kid
  Give me the crown cause if not then we taking that bitch
  Mother fucker
  100 words and running, 100 rappers that I ate still in my stomach
  And 100 other coming, hustling for one-hundred a-hundreds
  I dont give a fuck what you say, give me my money
  Not college educated, but I can count a shit load
  Connected like a constellation I can get you shipped more
  Boy I do numbers with these verses check the info
  Im Machine Gun Kelly what the fucks a pistol
  What the fucks a white flag
  What the fucks a price tag
  What the fuck is beef? Fuck it show me wheres the mics at
  I will tear each one of them mother fuckers a nice ass
  No homo cause we dont get dicked, we aint like that
  Nah bitch, shouldve hollered at me before
  Cause fuck you pay me is now my steelo
  And that goes for promoters, for the shows
  For the verses, for the hoes
  For the labels, what you owe
  Bitch, give me my dough
  Im the big baller, shot caller of my age
  19-year old Dwayne Wade
  And the Eastside on my back, no matter what they weigh
  Clevelands number 23 like I aint know Lebron played
  So whats up to all my fans who held me down since day one
  Telling them Kells the hardest that they come
  Gave the real what they want and I did that
  So come and blow a blunt with your boy give it here let me split that
  And I bet they wont forget that
  Cause rappers forgot how to be real
  Forgot how they used to be before the deal
  But I remember still
  Thats why Im not a member of fame
  Just raw talent who remembers the game
  And the name, Kells