Lyrics:

ft. Action Bronson, Royce Da 5'9, Black Thought

Yo, it's the rap Scott Disick
Come through the fucking block with some hot lizards
Blowing loud in the blizzard
Put six digits on the Wizards, shit, just don't tell my Mrs.
Damn, she throw the dice with a red glove
Spread love, spread legs from the bed to the tub
Floor to the closet
Real sex on the Panasonic
I'm getting head in the pool, bitch
Bitch, I'm just better than you
Yeah, around the world like four times
All because a motherfucker spit more rhymes
Yeah, more lines, more lines
Shit, feed 'em more lines and more lines
I won't dumb it down for morons
It's like shooting big game with a small 9

The bottom line of selling these pebbles
Get away with your life earnings while I'm tryna dodge these devils
The whole squad Gucci, Jordans, but chances are
You in LV if you running with these rebels
I'm selling wrapped up, capped up vowels of crack
Every syllable envelops the fact, I throw stacks
The chick riding with me, she polished, she a dime
She stylish, check her HOEFAX, her mileage is bad, she silent
The Desert Eagle hit a better the people
Selling perico like there is no I or L in illegal
I hire felons to sew up the streets while I let you believe
That it's better to be you, baby, I call that threading the needle
You know me, it ain't nothing corny in the wardrobe
I'm low key, even more so than Thor's bro
Impeccable ear, I take braille, make it Morse Code
Then peddle it like I'm tryna make the course go

And you say New York City
My cheapest t-shirts cost me $450
Listen for me to call it a while, it's go Philly
It's shorties in the front row flashing both titties
The texture of my voice is coarse, it's so gritty
That I could make the people revolt with no Diddy
I used to kick it with Hex Murda, Frank Nitty
In the D where he would bring J. Dilla and Dank with him
Riq Gees for mayor, a franchise player
Yeah, you might say I'm in the book of Isaiah
The highway is what his mind weigh
I'mma put a polka dot on your dome and Kwam? yah
This is the big payoff, soliloquy of Chaos
Another rapper gonna get rocked like Amadeus
Defeat'll make a nigga get ghost like a s?ance
It's triple entendre, three stacks of, hey ya
I plan to keep a band like Fela
Until when my career's over like A.I
It's me and the Muhammads, Alis bail out
That never played the porch or asked for mother, may I
Listen, my calling card ball hard like armadillos
Rappers too thin to win, like cigarillos
Shaking their hair back and forth like Willow
But need to save the soft ass talking for the pillows
I had a issue with a hater, now it's kinda squashed
Like a slug below the soles of the St. Laurents
My response, a stepping razor like I'm Father Tosh
Exotic fabrics on my blazer like the Maharaja
Sip with some margara, roll with no entourage
But I roll with heat like I'm Dwayne Wade, Lebron and Bosh
I keep the paper stacked in layers like baklavas
Even though they give us ours free, like the Amistad
I know I'm sort of pompous, no type of moral compass
Go right the fuck up in your mouth like I'm the orthodontist
Some rappers just starting out, but me, I'm more accomplished
The imperial Black Thought from the foreign object
I created a movement not just related to music
They keep asking me what's my take on the state of the union
All these haters is human, but I'm a different breed
They be crazy cartoonish, but I'm in a different league
Killer colloquium, kush rolled with opium
Making my associates act so inappropriate
I got weapons manufactured in the Soviet
Now I'm like Future on that 'I just won a trophy' shit
Ayo the, the, the boss is back
Take that, and while you're at it, make my coffee black
I tried to tell you motherfuckers, don't respond, react
I'm the nastiest to do it, as a matter of fact
Yo, who your top 5? Jay, Biggie, Pac, Nas
I ain't tryna hear another name if it's not mine
Any side talking I'mma consider it shots fired
At the outlier and start it up like a hotwire, nigga