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Uh Stuff, stuff a‚ uh I stuff a Glock in my bitch pocket (Hey) Bitch‚ stop it‚ skinny nigga, big papi (Hey) I put the pedal to metal, we go Nicki Minaj (Huh) One deep‚ baby, can't top it (Brrat) 5'9", with the stick‚ I look like Big Papi I keep a shotty, bottom bitches not harm me How could I not be? Everything you copy, huh (Bitch) I killed rock, now I'm sending bullets at you zombies You never haunt me (Hah), niggas tried to Vietnam me (Yeah) But I've been playing with pistols since you watching Toonami (Yeah) I'm not a rapper, I'm white trash in a mocha body (Oh) Ain't no career, I'm just hoping Madonna adopts me (Facts) I get it popping, fuck rock, bump Poppy (Brrat) I put the stock in, I'm scheming, I'm not plottin' (Hah) These niggas steppin' to me, end up Gianni Versace'd, nigga Say, say Do a feature for what? Bro, I been dyin' to kick it I'm too big for my britches I'm too rich for these bitches Rich in spirit, not in wealth, nigga Don't get it confused, you feel me? SongtexteAgain, do a feature for what? (Like, like, what the fuck for?) And you know that I'm afraid of everything Written like a ghost stuck behind the wind And you know that I'm a fool with the thing Written like a ghost in the wind Keep goin', baby Make me cry, nigga Like, make me fuckin' cry Make me fuckin' cry We talkin' about this story, I'm 'bout to fuckin' cry We talkin' about this story, I'm 'bout to fuckin' cry Aus Songtexte Mania