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Yo, where is everybody? It's fucking dead out here (Hello?) It's like a ghost town (Anyone home?) Feel like I'm in the twilight zone or somethin' (Hello?) There's literally nobody, I don't see nobody Where y'all at? Get on the mic like first time, long time Body rappers with my worst rhymes, strong rhyme The Phan' speedin' off, I'm chasin' a ghost Of cats who held New York down like Mason in the post (God bless) Damn right, I got a story to tell From hell to euphoria, a glorious tale In order to succeed, I really had to fail Tryna kick in that door to no avail (Fuck 'em) Dead out of luck Felt like I was stuck in a neverending game of Pacman Couldn't get it back, rhyme loosies for the Pakistan (Too short) Layin' in bed with fat bitches I wouldn't be caught dead with (Cows) Now my broads in the gym everyday, eatin' smart, cutting out carbs Y'all ain't seein' my bitch like she a Muslim God When she bow, it's not to make a salat Said, "Honey, money, I'ma make us a lot" (Word) On the grind like peppercorn Up in the land of the crooks, I ran and jux on a leprechaun Took the whole pot to skate it off SongtexteYour Old Droog cut from a different type of cloth (Feel the texture) Never see me with that struggle rapper swagger, nah Ate off the shit like Agallah (Hahaha) Benefits and a pension, why? 'Cause I got a penchant, to pen shit that's fly With a observant eye (What else?) and with that stride Take 'em on a trip, never thought that you could get that high Recognition they would kill for And I don't even go out, shit feel like the ill chore Catch me in the corner lookin' real raw Playin' the wall like David Gilmour at the Fillmore (He said what?) Try to skrt the circus, work is your reward Don't get hype when you catch one, there's still more (Hello?) (Anybody out there?) Shit Yo, uh That white gold's 'bout a quarter milli I'm lookin' really saucy when I sport my jewelry Pour some Remy, Lord forgive me if I'm talkin' silly Spilled the Lorcin and then go toss the semi sorta like a frisbee Off the bridge my nig, the water nippy Unfortunately, this ain't how it should be but once I climbed out the pussy Prol' look like I was havin' Puschkin Fly with my pint of whiskey Some barbershop liners to keep 'em crispy My wrist, shit is drippy, I'm lookin' pimpy, ring on the pinky Balmain, Givenchy, Riccardo Tisci Stefano Ricci, my palm's greasy, be easy This geek's only seen palm trees on TV G-string bikinis, martinis The double R with the stars on the ceiling My scars needed healin' Let's keep it real kid, we all Jesus' children But I had to sling in the field pimp, it was freezin' in my building It's cold as shit Yo, we ain't done It's like the wild west, come out with blazin' guns My competition is dead in more ways than one I be spirit bound, I feel it if they conscious Told them I don't play concerts, I hold seances Cash money like B.G. pilin' Days off, you don't see me whylin' I'm eatin' chicken wings with scallions With Meg Thee Stallion freestylin' Writin' rhymes ouija, sippin' Fiji by the gallon (Nighttime) Watchin' rappers pass the musical guest on Jimmy Fallen With more shitty performances than GG Allin (Who?) Whatever happened to lines that used to make you rewind? Like old video stores and Blockbuster Been a jam so I can't get flustered Didn't have honey mustard, so I mixed honey and mustard Callin' shots like a pool hustler in this eye whirlwind Hear the voice of YOD sermon Aus Songtexte Mania