Lyrics:

(yeah... yeah yeah E)
I'm often often
Sittin in my world in the coffin coffin
Coughin
Off the herb
off the curb
Money money money
Is what they concur
Do they agree
What they might see
Could be
Not exactly what they thought
The car that the rap star allegedly bought
Is probably the same car that the rap star rented
Front in the tennis
Supreme in the snow Fishtailin' the whip
parkin lot a double piece
Parked then
My mom swore up and down that I'd be the next cometh
Them other niggas far from it
Can't stand how these dick rock bandits
even get granted the access
All up in the mix
Want to be a kanye
Want to be a skateboard P
But nigga
All the B.C. could not put you
in the same place
Or give you the same face
Find you first then you can raise the stakes
Higher
Not talking shit just fire
Please mothafucka
All this BAPE shit I rock is none other
Who the best MCs in the Cleve'?
Cas, Chip, the Cudder -- Triple the illness
And Ohio gotta feel this
Took a decade just to say I'm paid
Took a decade to get hoes to lay down
Spread eagle
Pop that pussy ho
Need the love below
I'm the champ that need a gold medal
As far as the flow, homeboy, I got plenty
I payed for my noodle the digital vortex
textin' a freak
digital phone sex
She wanna suck a dong
'cuz my songs give my digital checks
Gigabytes decide the words that I write
I get gone, nigga,
day and night
Take it literally
How more crystal clear can I be?
How more crystal clear can I be?
How more crystal clear can I be?
Can I be?
Can I be?
Uh Yeah
Can I be-E-e
How more crystal clear can I be?
Can I be?
Can I be?
Can I be?
Can I be?