Yeah, we back

Back in Muhammad crib, nigga, top floor

The back room with just the one little small window, nigga



The light be comin' through it in the morning

Old-ass walls and shit

But it's just like I remember, just like I wanted it

Yeah, I'm workin'

Yeah, I'm workin', nigga

Look, it's the return of the Mr. Burn Suckers

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

Cryin' in the corner

'Cause I ain't into sorta kinda, dissin' niggas

I'm borderline addicted to slaughter

Line up niggas in order

Of who you think can really f**k with me most

Then I tuck the heat close, if he don't duck 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 sayin' shit, 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 standin' 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 shittin' on these piss-poor rappers, I'm back

Never knew a nigga that was better

Revenue, I'm good at gettin' 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 nigga, my nigga