[Intro: Tabby & Shawn Cee]
I guarantee you with a track like uh...
What, Das Cap? (Yeah)
...a rapper who's got that charisma, who's got that flow, who's got that way about him; could make that track into an instant banger

[Verse 1]
Do shit like this too easily
Freckle-face flash the stick like Weasley
Put your shit on blast 'cause your CD’s weak
God bless January 1993
Little ritz getting cheese, rest of ya’ll saltines
Fuckin' squares salty there’s a honky with this steeze
All organic, fuck a label on my groceries
No debating, flow as wavy as Kanye type beats
Give a fuck 'bout the soundclouds
No charisma and you’d sound the same if you swapped mouths
Instrumental bump the whip 'cause Feefo just a nice guy
This is an example how to ride your fucking beats right (right right right)
Where are my adlibs?
Don’t be dramatic, Tabby, you spazzin'
Damn this a classic, remix more often
Sorry, I can’t, I’d run out of coffins
This needs more filler; look so Mac Miller
Coffee and Dilla, breakfast of winners
You on beginner, my game on expert
This is my season, end yours like Dexter
DD! Get out of my laboratory
MCs! Sound like ya’ll were born this morning
It’s funny how you told to try to be more lyrical
By normies who bought Target out of all Revival physicals

[Bridge]
Y’all articulate as joints on a Barbie Doll, spit
Can’t even change hair on a Polly Pocket
Woke as Russ, black as Gerald, gay as Macklemore is
Don’t come at me with taste on my Michelin star shit

[Verse 2]
Might fuck around and be the Chopped Champion
Mic in my hand a perfect match like Pam & Jim
Your producer should have put you in the friend zone, uh
I’m available, tell him hit my Venmo up
Smack a feature that doesn’t match the tempo, Trunks
Going Saiyan, got the sword 'cause I’m slaying you chumps
Gang way, replicas, here’s the blade runner
Master Bruce going Wayne, this my dedication
Man, was about to give a fuck
Thankfully, I caught myself
Elderly have fallen, help
Better call an ambulance that Red Alert medallion
Froze, no functionality
Well golly gee, ain’t that a B-itchy
So I’m scratching off veterans like lottery
Or me on wax when fucking pre-orders hit 500
"Peachfuzz!" the second come up
Ski-mask on album cover
See, that, and know the summer means
Subtraction of your numbers
Need absence, need space like your ex do
Stop thinking it’s a text
All you feel is a shift in your belt loop
Motherfucker I’m just really tryna help you
Donald Glover feeling something 'bout to wake up
Not talking bout your hunger 'cause it ain’t much
Yeah, thinking that my stomach got the 9 tails
Fuck your foreign, whipping high on a clydesdale
Why your rhymes stale?

[Outro]
I can’t even smoke anymore
Pink drink on the daily, I’m that metrosexual
Acting feminine to get to know these ladies head to toe
Smelling blood in the water
Think you need a bigger boat
Bitch!