Lyrics:

Deuce has explained that his song is about pissing off industry people. He wrote his song in the middle of the lawsuit with his former label A&M/Octone.
The third single from his first solo album “Nine Lives”.
(Release the kraken!)
Wait, wait, wait, one second
(All the girlies with the—)
Hello?
Yes, hello, uh, Aron, Deuce, are you there?
Yeah, yeah, what's up?
Yeah, so a little birdie's telling me you're working on a new record. Is that true?
Bir—Yeah, a birdie?
What the fuck are you thinkin', huh?
Uh, you know, I'm very busy, I'm doin' shit, and I'm—
Help me, help me, help me
Huh? What's your—what the fuck is goin' on through your brain, huh?
We're a big deal, you know that, right?
Uh huh
We're—we're a fuckin' major label. You ain't gonna be starting your own band. You fuckin' swore...
Help me, help me, help me
I'ma trash that record, no radio! You ain't never comin' out without my permission! I'ma bury you, boy, I'ma bury you!

Help me, I ain't got no brains
Help me, I can't feel no pain
Help me, I can't stand the rain
Help me 'fore I drift away
Help me, I ain't got no brains
Help me, I can't feel no pain
Help me, I can't stand the rain
Help me 'fore I drift away

I'm the George Bush of this rap shit,
You can tell Randy Jackson to kiss my black ass
I'm the white Obama, bitch, you can judge this
While I flip my middle finger off and let one out quick
I'm sick of these people trying to tell me what I got
Like it's down syndrome, it makes me wanna load a clip
And put a round in them, make 'em drown in with
These other rap stars who are clowns, it's sick
Like Monica Lewinsky sucking on a six-inch toothpick
Bitch just got her boobs did so she can do it, do it
And make a new clip till these kids download it
And you say I'm profound, shit
I ain't going down with my hand on my dick
While the next World Trade Center blows up quick
Hold up, I think you need another doughnut, Mr. Officer
Everybody, go nuts!

Help me, I ain't got no brains
Help me, I can't feel no pain
Help me, I can't stand the rain
Help me 'fore I drift away
Help me, I ain't got no brains
Help me, I can't feel no pain
Help me, I can't stand the rain
Help me 'fore I drift away

Look what I've become, this place that I begun
I started as The One and still don't give a fuck
These bitches get no love, no more grenade or dove
You're thirty, rapping? Ew, and still ain't got a buzz
You can dream, you can dream, but you're gonna suck
I got the voice and the looks, baby, turn it up
I don't need MTV when I sell this much
I'd rather be on Carson Daily than Oprah, son
I'mma be better than 'em, I'm a veteran kid
I came to get these kids off of medicine binges
Who's better than him? Not Murillo, that bitch
I told you once and I'mma tell you again
At least fight back, pussy, give me a challenge
I'm the boss, motherfucker, you don't want no static
B-O-S-S, Deuce is back, bitch
Ayo, Truth (Yo, what's up?), pass the automatic

Help me, I ain't got no brains
Help me, I can't feel no pain
Help me, I can't stand the rain
Help me 'fore I drift away
Help me, I ain't got no brains
Help me, I can't feel no pain
Help me, I can't stand the rain
Help me 'fore I drift away

These labels wanna put me away for good
They wanna keep me in the hood
But I keep swinging right back like you know I should
Making history in the books
You suck, there's no buts
The whole music industry can lick my nuts
Motherfucker, I ain't got no love
For a fake-ass wannabe Donald Trump.

Help me, I ain't got no brains
Help me, I can't feel no pain
Help me, I can't stand the rain
Help me 'fore I drift away
Help me, I ain't got no brains
Help me, I can't feel no pain
Help me, I can't stand the rain
Help me 'fore I drift away

Uh-huh, uh-huh, haha, yeah!
I ain't even gotta fucking try!
You know why? 'Cause I sound good whenever I talk
Whenever I spit, whenever I sing, bitch!
I'm the fucking white Obama, bitch
Yeah, aye, Yuma, let's get the fuck outta here!