Lines-of-a-god, no replicated pod.
No pork on the fork, but it’s white in the pot
Came from the bottom, aiming for the top
I go in i go hard i go ham, i don't stop
Spitting like im the true rap god, hop in my astro pod, launch, im fucking extraordinary,
I wake up at the slightest peep, and my sheets are 3 feet deepi guess it's hard for you to see
We fuckin' it up this summer
And i think i like her
Cutting me this worthless check
I know that i should forget
Im done, hopefully you now know im the one son of the true rap god, sent in a heavenly pod,
So i needs to hit a lick, drasticallyi see some balding-ass niggas and they slipping in my spot
Living lives i wish i had
But they ain't for rat tat tat-tat tat
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