45

[Intro]

I can't rap

[Verse]

Okay, please make yourself right at home, tell Annie take the load off

Tell Joseph take his Technicolor coat off, see, I'm Hefner with the robe off

Flow is cold as Olaf, I put my cards all on the table, first I wipe the coke off, clean

All wins, no loss, locked in, goes off

Bad bitch, clothes off, no kids, low cost

Whiskey in my hand, whiskey in my hand, I be's in trouble

Somewhere seein' double, prolly p-pissin' in my pants

Okay, I can confess, I am a mess

Urge to slap somebody, got a serious case of hand Tourette's

Thеy label me a damaged thrеat

It started getting weird once I made more than both my parents' checks

It ain't shit though, my mom be makin' ten times the banana bread

The flows is goin' hammerhead, burnin' on the amber

You my man, is there on salmon red, I'm greater than Alexander

Most of these rappers need to stop, because they'll never make a jam again

End up forty-five, with just a Walkman and a camping tent

And you can buy my album out on CD, vinyl, and cassette

I ain't a rapper, haven't copped the Lambo or the Phantom yet

I give you more than Mandy, yes, sorry ‘bout that corny bar

But white girls still in middle school been most of my support thus far

Cook meth in this horse's barn, not as bad as your things are

Most of you are eating food that started on a torture farm

All the hours watching porn, I'm somethin' like a porno star

That makes me a master thief for stealing iPhone cords from cars

This is for an eagle, on my second shot and four is par

She bicycle my dick, tell me it's longer than the Tour de France

One day inside Pittsburgh, take your kids to see McCormick Park