[HOOK x2] Cadillac gold grills in my mother fuckin' mouth Cocaine, gold chain rests on my vertebrae All them niggas that be hatin' better watch what they say I heat 'em up, beat 'em up I'm Cassius Clay
[Verse 1] Mountain Climbing's about the rhyming, I [work](undefined) to the tippy-top Me, my notepad, Mary Jane, sticky pot Ticks from the clock, so it means I don't get to stop I be in the studio pacing, waiting for this shit to drop Niggas wish whether we flop Divac Flock to take me a boombox, every fucking 2 knocks I see you running ya chops, chop it up and get chopped Bag 'em up, he off the docks, and bitch I'm at the beach Bitch I'm at the beach, (oh) bitch I'm at the beach With a childish flow, that means this shit is at your reach I'm here to keep it g, from the eyes (I's) how I see You're here to be a b-i-t on my d I need no ID for you to recognize I exercise my thought, got you petrified, bitch I'm next to die (Die) Consider me invisible, and also one mentally fucked individual
(A bunch of coughing and trading blunts, passing the weed around)
[HOOK x2]
[Verse 2] Why the fuck got these niggas gotta hate for? I got a lot of shit they can't pay for Cooler than the beach, fuck the lakeshore You niggas take six, well I'mma take more I'm like a virgin dick, I go hard, and I get up in your bitch and boguard Niggas riding waves without the chauffeur I'mma drown your ass and take your surfboard (PUSSY!) My shit stink, no cushion Whoopie Goldberg I beat the track Goldberg Dusting off my shoulders and keep it moving forward Nigga sat and playing Madden on the couch, bored Slower, you mother fuckers goin' nowhere Except for taking Grandma to the store Turn the television on and check the score And trail like a tail on a fucking horse