Who is it, Killa boo

Jigga what, Jigga who, he a muthafuckin' jigga-boo

Playahater I don't play them games

You got beef with Killa, nigga, say my name

You shy, he snortin' raw, or they reported wrong

My paper long, I be on any resort ya on

The muscle muscle tussles I give

I got homes where you hide, I hustle where you live

So get the K's, I'm Mr. K, he fish filet

He only go to Marcy on Christmas Day

You not Santa fuck clothes from Bertoff

'Fore you murk off why don't you drop work off

Or, sign a rapper from the borough, get off Jeezy dick

And Rick Ross shit, but he a jerk-off

I done dust and fried him, the fans must oblige him

Called the sandals slippers, can't justify 'em

We the Byrdgang, you a bird head

You do flip-flops, step up, hermes

I from the rap blocks, the rats, and have knots

Only G-4 I'm on is a laptop

Got me over-depressed, nigga HOV is a mess

It's G-5 minimum or Global Express

Goddag (dag) we livin' in Baghdad

You got no style, dip inside the swag bag

See bad past, Benz's, black Jag

I'm tremendous, my pants from sack sag

And the guns are imported and exquisite

He out of retirement, Jordan on the Wizard