[Intro]
Don't read the lyrics until I spit them out
This is amazing ... okay
This is Que and Chris Carson

[Verse 1]
Fucking appetite for success is my front line
A hundred thousand in cash and a not penny of shame
Getting that wasn't easy, I'm not the bad one
If you're an astronaut, say hello to our ego there, ego there
No pressure, no wounds
I'm idestructible, like I just stole prescriptions for Ketonal
What can tame me? Warning: nothing
Tax office shouts to me: Nu, pagadi
The scene is fresh, I'm starving
I don't even want to quote it
I don't еven want to quote it
Becausе I eat them like, yhm, is there an option for delivery?
This is our time like Smagalaz
Even the Jabba Hutt bangs its head
I have such a hype that I can rap this shit again
A sharp entry, red alert, a foul should be called
I played dirty, but I keep having fun
It's piece by piece like in Pizza Hut
Payroll is growing, bigger and faster
The city is small, but ambitions are great

[Chorus]
How is it? That I make money and have respect on stage
How is it? You don't think I'm still in underground
How is it? Full mouths and full pockets
Thats how it is! We clink glasses with my hypeman
Hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype
Hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype

[Verse 2]
Can't fault me ​​for anything, I'm too honest and true
They shit-talk me, fake rappers
Thomas Aquinas would probably also believe this punch line
Checked-off prime minister, I got golf with the president tomorrow
Why braggin' so much, there's too much alcohol
Simple answers, the problem of reconstructing experiences
You want to forestall me, forestall me, let's test ourselves
You record it for yourself, half the pain; Harvey Dent
Fucking appetite for success, check the potential
The whole rap game will soon make a colon and a v, blow
I don't know if you can digest it easily
Now I am player like Dawid Podsiadło
I create life as I want, these are my sims sims
Getting out of the trap is the goal, your clinchy clinches
I have to run for my own, we're sprinting
Ten years ago, they wouldn't have done it; Vintage

[Chorus]
How is it? That I make money and have respect on stage
How is it? You don't think I'm still in underground
How is it? Full mouths and full pockets
Thats how it is! We clink glasses with my hypeman
Hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype
Hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype

[Verse 3]
We are going to blow the stage up, 'cause they're jokes in slo-mo
I have five sevens in my birth date; hot spot
My plan is out of my mind, call me John Doe
Your rap for seven sorrows, John Doe again
Lines like that, it doesn't bother you but you're humming it
I was a shit, open that Rap Genius
My enthusiasm is Eyjafjallajökull, it barely cooled down
Even vampires cast a shadow of doubt on you
No fucking deal, no fucking debts
We follow the trail of possession, I don't think there are other ways for us anymore; Voodoo
The eighth wonder comes in, it's Que and Chris Carson
The difference is that I am standing near the abyss
They can't label me, I can lock anything up
Eclectic, my stylist is like O.J Simpson
I clean like Splinter Cell, the scene is eaten
Milord, where's the cylinder for my shotgun?

[Chorus]
How is it? That I make money and have respect on stage
How is it? You don't think I'm still in underground
How is it? Full mouths and full pockets
Thats how it is! We clink glasses with my hypeman
Hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype
Hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype