I'll be shutting niggas up when I talk But nothing's ever gonna get done to me Y'all ain't gon do nothing at all I'm gon be talking shit forever man, ever man Shut the fuck up when I talk Nothing's ever gonna get done to me Y'all ain't gon do nothing at all I talk about your ass forever man, ever man
[Verse 1] Last name Voorhees, first name Jason Like a loaded pistol boy I ain't nothing to play with You don't want no problems, that drama be too horrendous Fuck you and your feelings, your Momma the who offended Pimping ain't easy, but bitch I'm in the building I'm the smack man, I got a back hand like Serena Williams He hungry like them Africans on the TV asking feed the children Even though he be eating like he Sicilian I sweat brilliance, I shit genius You on fire till I come by you and extinguish I'm distinguised, I'm bout to quit writing You bout to grow a set of hooters while a nigga just winging My dick swinging, it's slapping my leg so much the shit's stinging You heard who better than me, bitch bring em He stepped up like Rocky, he'll probably be finished He'll go from looking like he Balboa to Rocky Dennis You thought you was winning til every tooth in your mouth is in A pouch in your pocket, the next time you talk to your dentist These lame niggas say they bodies is endless Get in my lane they license to kill, it's probably suspended I'm fly, feeling like I got wings and I'm in the air I miss my flight tell the pilot I said I'll meet you there Cause he too rare, there should be a sign on every vocal Booth that's says if Nickel-9 choose to do your beat beware
[Verse 2] Last name pay me, first name fuck you You collect and call me by my alias, it's what loot Find me with your bitch my dick out, with a mouth on it Take her round the corner a couple times, put some miles on it Take her round monsters, OGs that used to be slaves For Reagan helping to fund the Iran contra Poster boy for gun rap I got all kind of rhymes done about my guns cousin cause I got, tons of em I ain't no, industry nigga, I don't do no events I got some red carpets that's under my shoes in the Benz He so street, when he do it, the sewer's his twin He spit that shit, he should spit it into a depend When it come to rhyming, I'm a Ducati your dude is a Schwinn I don't do parties and you, you just do men My crew just too sick, your crew got pooper scoop dicks My crew just drink and do chicks, nigga, y'all ain't gon' do shit Slaughterhouse dynamic is Ortiz too mature for beef Joey kill you with his words, me I do it forcefully Crooked is the smart one But don't you get it twisted That nigga there he will kill ya I been to see how he living When I brain storm actual rain comes I am one with the streets, I Sam, Cooks the beat until change comes My brain got different compartments One it holds the psychosis, one it holds the explosives One just got a note in it that says on it, homie knows that he dope he Stay on his toes he ferocious, he hopeless the focus on me With negative energy, you'll only lose your focus, I am not the best I am death, now let God and Satan iron out the rest
[Outro] Ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha That's the victory laugh Ha ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha And since I can't do another nigga beat Without y'all try thinking I'm dissing him Shout out my nigga Drake Now get the fuck out my face fore I fuck you up