This is a letter to my true fans
Take the letter N off the end of fan
Add an M, yeah you my true fam
I ain’t never needed a news stand
Just a new stance to understand the dudes the truth, damn
Kiss a record executive’s ass I can’t do
They wanna rape you before they bathe and ape you
I’m clapping my hands, pussy rapper well done
They bent you over, made you spell run, (R-U-N)
Now that’s some deep shit, I’m on some G shit
Like getting your peeps hit and not giving a fuck the least bit
My trigger click lickety split, quick as E-Swift
Sip the liquor, that’s how quick a nigga’s heat spit
I’m rap terror, I’m eating nigga’s insides
Heart dark as mascara surrounding Prince eyes
Ya’ll small french fries, inch size
This brother lynch guys, you’ll be dead way before the stench dies
I’m a way better swinger like I was trained by Mayweather Sr
Crooked, they never seen ya, grey leather seats in the Modena
Shit that straight cheddar bringer
Still thugging wave middle fingers
Bosstradamus, this year I’m dropping “B.O.S.S.” I promise
Haters, yeah I came across your comments
While I was lost off in the Bahamas
With a awesome little mama
Like Buffy peeling off pyjamas
Pussy so good I threw her some cheese son
Dick was even better so she gave me a refund
Speaking of dick I’m thinking you pricks can eat one
And don’t ride mine when that summer heat come
They say the truth shall come to the light
I guess the spotlight is on me when I’m clutching the mic
Clutching it like chrome pipes
Not the kind you find under a bike
The kind that makes swines run for your life
All you best rappers alive, you make a nigga laugh ’til I cry
Put the cash up, dance with the I
You could be the best rapper alive after I die
Then I come back twice rapping with the passion of Christ
Married to the streets, made her sign a prenup
Taking my paper to the grave, bury me G’d up
LBC’d up, yeah COB’d up
So far ahead of you meth heads you better speed up
Niggas pop pills getting E’d up
Me, I’m addicted to Lunesta cause I do it in my sleep, what
B.O.S.S., see you next week