Lyrics:

(Verse1)
Gin in my cup, so I ain't so sober
Girl on my dick, call me Cassanova
Ribs are broken, My name is Oprah
My girl talk too but she deal in chocha.'
Got the gold top like I'm one of the Brady's
Birthday shit on the side, get that quick Mercedes

'Scuse me ladies! I know you wanna shoot me
Like my name's Jay Brady, but the cameras pay me
I wanna eat good Iike Rachel Ray
Pop tags on shoes on the 8th of May
My voice too high 'sposed to hold me back
They say the same fucking thing cause I'm young and black

Opposites attract
So not far from me is white dude with low voice and no money
Who gives a fuck if my voice sound funny
Fuck friends, I got me a bi-buddy
I'm true life Iike I'm MTV
Hollywood like a six time three

I been goin' so crisp, get dressed in a fly ass t-shirt
Nike so tight they make your fuckin' feet hurt
Jealous ass niggas when they see you rollin'
Same motherfucker on Ceezie’s scrotum
My sneeks so bright, and my girls so thick
Money so big call me Ceezie's dick

(Hook)
Calling all haters all across the world it's a (red alert)
It's a (red alert), it's a
Calling all haters all across the world it's a (red alert)
It's a (red alert), it's a

(Verse 2)
I shine so bright they should call me sunlight
Call me punk rock cause my jeans is too tight
Diesel boo boo, Michael jacket
Got one e'ry week. It's a nasty habit
Day eights and up, that my standard
Show 'em who's boss like Tony Danza
Take it across state get the nasty plate
With my bootleg sex, why masturbate
It's the dude from the hood that you love to hate
Cause I got new shoes and I love to skate
Me and Lupe got it kick push
To show these pussy ass niggas why we fuck they bush
I used to have to sweep floors just to make the ends meet
The ends meetin' like a motherfucker. Ain't that sweet?
Why I'm deep with the kids like Phish on myspace
Now I'm on your fish scales like I hang with Ghostface
They say black don't crack, except for Whitney
My shit don't crack, I fall off like Britney
To put it simply, I lose my balance
Cause I got a pink drink and it makes me tipsy
Live the high life, make the full price
You want my advice to get the five mics
You wanna put them fake ass guns away
Nah, I'm just kiddin' nigga, you ain't got a chance anyway

(Hook) x 2