Man Of The Hour

[Verse 1]

Blewell jeans, Moby Dick stitching

Trigger finger itching

To trouble one of you niggas

I'm daring one of you niggas to jump

I'ma snatch you out pistol whip you

Then put you back in the trunk

Shit, I'm back in the front

The front page of the newspaper

They say I'm seeing more paper... true

But only if you knew that

I was in your house right now taking the  paper from you

Where ya safe at?

Chick is swinging on the dick like a fucking bat

And catch it all like an umpire

I'ma go hard, rims bigger than the fucking car

Baby girl say why the fuck you even got tires?

I don't know, just get inside

And never question my shit again ho

I fold dough like a notebook

I see money, you pass it up like Magic Johnson no look

Who the fuck taught you niggas how to cook

That's what I'm hearing up in your song

Beat said if you're cooking up the product and your wrist don't hurt when you do it then you're doing it wrong (fucking bidness)