| Ah-ha-ha, I didn’t—ha-ha-ha, ah!
|
| I didn’t know it was gonna—hehe
|
| I didn’t know it was gonna hit your dick
|
| Ah, damn that shit
|
| Me llamo Roberto
|
| Wait, what? |
| That’s a «Roberto»?
|
| Stripped down to my skin and my bones
|
| I love huskies but I feel like a wolf (howw!)
|
| In a pack but I feel all alone
|
| I’m scatterbrained, man
|
| Better offer the clone
|
| Until you high as a plumber with race eyes, (chronic) doin' weird shit
|
| Like, this’ll make your bio-pic (haha)
|
| Rile 'em up, hit Zaxby’s
|
| Get the wing tings (yum)
|
| Real quick bills still stacking to the ceiling (uh-oh)
|
| Whatchu mean, it ain’t working? |
| (what?)
|
| Whatchu mean, you ain’t finding yourself? |
| (oh, I am, I’m trying)
|
| Whatchu mean, you ain’t got no cash? |
| (I got a little bit)
|
| Whatchu mean? |
| Whatchu mean?
|
| Shouldn’t your pockets be big just like a fat chick? |
| (uh-huh)
|
| Shouldn’t your mama be done paying the house off? |
| (I guess)
|
| Shouldn’t you have a real big-ass ego? |
| (no)
|
| Shouldn’t these girls be flockin' just like seagulls? |
| (eh)
|
| Twistin' me up like licorice
|
| Think I need someone who can handle it
|
| Ice and my boys and my wrist this flex
|
| I don’t need nobody tryna give me shit
|
| Twistin' me up like licorice
|
| Think I need someone who can handle it
|
| Ice and my boys and my wrist this flex
|
| I don’t need nobody tryna give me shit
|
| The original lick-splickety
|
| Higher than Yosemite
|
| Breaking the mold mentally
|
| Master with no limiting
|
| Making em say ugh
|
| They worshipping our force viciously
|
| Watching the floor tip
|
| In your temple of authenticity
|
| Often they say I’m off it
|
| I offer my crossed empathy
|
| They forgot what we on
|
| I’ll remind em with hostility
|
| Hot diggity damn
|
| Everyone running scams
|
| Gotta cover your clams
|
| And take another glance
|
| Running a clinic
|
| No scans
|
| Ain’t no one claiming
|
| Yo mans
|
| It’s all pertaining
|
| To plan
|
| Call me the architect
|
| Lap you in a UFO I haven’t started yet
|
| Still gotta figure out exactly where to park it at
|
| Moses with the pen
|
| Each line an ocean I can part it at
|
| But that’s too deep
|
| Don’t call me stupid, that ain’t the way my name pronounced
|
| Don’t call me Cupid, I got too many hoes right now
|
| Poolside in Houston, tryna see if Beyonce will take me for adoption
|
| Broke-ass rich suburbs
|
| I said they ain’t shot, third war
|
| We just by the fountain
|
| This is Merlyn Wood, man
|
| Everywhere I go is the woodlands
|
| I need a honeybutter
|
| Vodka in an Sprite can
|
| When I’m in the Whataburger
|
| All the kids know who I am
|
| I need a honeybutter
|
| Puttin' lean in my Sprite can
|
| Twistin' me up like licorice
|
| Think I need someone who can handle it
|
| Ice and my boys and my wrist this flex
|
| I don’t need nobody tryna give me shit
|
| Twistin' me up like licorice
|
| Think I need someone who can handle it
|
| Ice and my boys and my wrist this flex
|
| I don’t need nobody tryna give me shit
|
| I got a record but I’m clean as they come
|
| I’m Godzilla, when they see me they run
|
| On 37th, used to run from the bloods
|
| The undercovers gotta duck when they come
|
| I moved out and in a couple of months
|
| I’ma be a pop star, they call me a thug
|
| I used to write raps on the back of the bus
|
| Now I’m in the front seat shifting the gears
|
| It’s funny how things can change
|
| Three hundred dollars to my name, left to Hollywood
|
| I was living off Ramen and change
|
| Five hundred dollars on these dinners, never have to pay
|
| Growing up my teachers told me
|
| «You better get them grades up
|
| If you wanna finish high school
|
| And after high school, you better get a degree
|
| 'Cause it’s a dog-eat-dog world
|
| You could live in the street»
|
| Flashback, I had my Walkman in the minivan
|
| Listening to NSYNC, saw my name on the CD
|
| Bleach blond tips, wanted to be JT
|
| Wanted to do big things, had to fulfill a dream
|
| One might say I was doomed from the get-go
|
| But those same people assume, 'cause they’ll never know
|
| What it’s like to be called to what’s not set in stone
|
| I am one with the ebb and flow, that’s all I know
|
| Twistin' me up like licorice
|
| Think I need someone who can handle it
|
| Ice and my boys and my wrist this flex
|
| I don’t need nobody tryna give me shit
|
| Twistin' me out like licorice
|
| Think I need someone who can handle it
|
| Ice and my boys and my wrist this flex
|
| I don’t need nobody tryna give me shit
|
| Twistin' me up like licorice
|
| Think I need someone who can handle it
|
| Ice and my boys and my wrist this flex
|
| I don’t need nobody tryna give me shit
|
| Twistin' me out like licorice
|
| Think I need someone who can handle it
|
| Ice and my boys and my wrist this flex
|
| I don’t need nobody tryna give me shit |