(Intro)
Yeah, we back
Back in Muhammad crib, ni**a, top floor
The back room with just the one little small window, ni**a
The light be coming through it in the morning
Old ass walls and s**t but it’s just like I remember
Just like I wanted it
Yeah, I’m working
Yeah, I’m working, ni**a
(Verse)
Look, it’s the return of the Mr. Burn S**kers
Not herpes infested, just perfectly blessed with
A style that you can’t F with, protection recommended
Cause Cole the definition of a weapon that can end it
You know, mass destruction when I mash the button
I take your favorite major rapper, left him independent
Crying in the corner
Cause I ain’t into sorta kinda, dissing ni**as
I’m borderline addicted to slaughter
Line up ni**as in order
Of who you think can really f*** with me most
Then I tuck the heat close, if he don’t d**k then he ghost
Ain’t no need for discussion
If they weren’t talking bout the bread
These motherf**kers be toast
Clap at the fake deep rappers
The OG gatekeep rappers
The would you take a break please rappers
Bunch of words and ain’t saying s**t, I hate these rappers
Especially the amateur eight week rappers
Lil whatever just another short bus rapper
Fake drug dealers turn tour bus trappers
Napoleon complex, you this tall rappers
Get exposed standing next to 6’4″ rappers
The streets don’t f**k with you, you Pitchfork rappers
Chosen by the white man, you hipster rappers
I reload the clip, then I hit more rappers with that
Straight s**tting on these piss-poor rappers, I’m back
Never knew a ni**a that was better
Revenue, I’m good at getting cheddar
Reminisce on days I didn’t eat
If it’s meant to be, then it’ll be
If it’s not, then f**k it, I’ma try
Ain’t no need to ask the Father why, no
Cause one day everybody gotta die
One day everybody gotta die, oh
One day everybody gotta die
One day everybody gotta die, my ni**a, my ni**a
