Mashin' gas, I'm blowin' gas, yeah, that pressure
Gasoline dream, only I don't fukk with Tesla
My granddaddy couldn't read, but he was wise as a professor
Told me, "Baby, you can never own what you can never measure
That p*ssy, you can't own it 'cause somebody elsе'll stretch her
So be about yoursеlf and your money," I said, "Yes, sir"
Ayy, Mr. Willie Wisdom helped his grandson make a milli'
And now I got a village, but that ain't nobody business
I let these dumbies keep thinkin' I'm rappin' and I'm trappin'
These stupid nikkas ask of me, "Ayy, Michael, ayy, what happened?"
These stupid nikkas think that I fell off and life is hardest
Just made a hundred K openin' for Rage up at the Garden
Ayy, bytch, I ain't the Knicks, ho, I'm never losin'
And, bytch, I ain't a pimp, but your bytch is steady choosin'
Choosy Susie got me bustin' on her booty like an Uzi
My missus right there tellin' this young bytch how she should do me
Chew me, chew me 'til you hear me goin', "Ah," then go gooey
Later on, we blow reefer like our name is Bob and Rita
Better yetter, we are somethin' like a Martin and Coretta
And if one of us die, just know they bury us together (Yeah)
Leanin' in my Demon, doin' donuts, Krispy Kremin'
And you p*ssy nikkas hatin' still ridin' a player penis
I'm the cleanest, I'm the meanest that your ass has ever seen-est
You should hail this young genius as if he's another Jesus
Man, I am a leader that is hated by elitists
And my life ain't been the sweetest, ain't no bowl of Reese's Pieces
And thank God for that 'cause too much sugar give you diabetes
Lately, I been walkin' through the backcountry of Georgia
Prayin', meditatin', tryna keep my mind in order
'Cause I was this here close to havin' p*ssy nikkas slaughtered
To my lawyer and my plumber, yeah, I'm forever grateful
'Cause I don't clean up my own shyt 'cause that's what they get paid for
p*ssy nikka, get your ass up, fukk some p*ssy, get some paper
And after you get paper, be like Nip' and help your neighbor
And then you help another nikka double up his figures
And then you nikkas ain't got to cry like you nikkas victims
Yeah, it's Big Daddy Michael, tall like an Eiffel
One hand on my dikk, the other hand on my rifle
I stand up in court and lie, one hand on the Bible
'Cause I don't rat on co-des or my motherfukkin' rivals
It's Michael