Kumbaya, boom-ba-ye
Know the owl stay on me
bruh
You nikkas hot to them little kids, you ain't famous to me
Told you I'm aimin' straight for the head
Now they "Amen" and "Please"
I can give a fukk about who designing your sneakers and tees
Had somebody put you on a guilt and you play with my seed
Trust me, there's some shyt you really gotta come see to believe
That's why your people not believers, they all leavin' ya'
That's why you buyin' into the hype that the press feedin' ya'
You know the fourth level of jealousy is called "Media"
Isn't than an ironic revelation?
Get that address to your driver, make it your destination
'Stead of just a post out of desperation