Текст песни
If I go broke I'll hit the streets and sell that fentynal
I need my pockets fat I need my wallet high cholesterol
You know I beat the beat up (No Diddy)
I got fans in every city
Most these rappers here today then gone tomorrow
I can feel it in my gut
These motherfuckers disgust me
Two 57 on the scale, pockets husky
I pull up in the Humvee, I pull up in the tugboat
I pull up in the motherfucking tank get to bustin
I got a brand new mac, Steve Jobs
Every single rapper I meet is a cornball
Billy got a clean bitch I am a slob
Shit I got friends back home that still rob
I stay in Chicago in the 312 (IN THE 312)
Walk around smoking blunts bigger than Tom cruise
Ain't nothing changed but the wheels
Billy slang ozempic to the fiends out in Beverly Hills
Why the fuck would I sign that dumbass deal
I ain't splitting shit motherfucker get real
I'm not a rapper Im a Navy SEAL
Next manager to bug me your whole team getting spilled (kablam)
Billy is a cowboy, I might blow em to smithereens
Hit him in his noggin, grab the horse then I fled the scene
Taylor Swift money might buy me a baseball team
I'm in her mouth like Listerine
You'd have to see it to believe Billy really a magician
All my bitches are conceded selling crack at the soup kitchen
I got that, Dana White come pay me a visit
Its fight night, put the damn pussy in submission
How come every rapper that I meet is a liar
Take those grills out before your ass gets fired
Where's your resume?, you need to get your ass on Indeed
Scrolling on your phone worried about the wrong feed
Good grief, hit a lick I'm a thief
Why you tryna beef you drive a Nissan LEAF
Rap game, Tim Allen, hit his ass with a tool (beep beep beep bop)
Fuck around knock out his teeth
Breaking News
Rapper Billy Marchiafava has now made rap music illegal
Those found making rap songs will be prosecuted