Come around the hood, see us eatin’ good lookin’ good
Tell me what they mad for
You should be on the radio, soundin’ like I made a million dollars
Tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for
Girl tell me what they mad for
Tell me what they mad for

If you sellin’ all the records and you fuckin’ all the bitches
And you sit atop of charts and you livin’ out your wishes
With your chains all smothered and your watches all glittered
And your ghost and your phantoms all comin’ home to visit

With your baby mama fucking every rapper in the business
Niggas saying you was better when the drugs was in your system
Now your crack swag gone ever since you came from prison
Got you tweeting all stupid, is you skatin’, is you dissin’
Found out your ghost leased and your phantom just rented
Won’t leave it in your name like pac when he went missing
Makaveli lives on so I’m riding on you bitches