SauceMANIA

[Chris Crack]

Yeah bitch

Yeah bitch

[Verse 1: Chris Crack]

Brushin' my teeth in the bathtub

She asked what I wanna be

This was '93

I said "I think one of 'em of rappers"

Clap up, it's the introduction to hitting your cousin up at your mom's spot

Real talk, first pillow talk

Mild sauce on the piece of puff, I don't need to cop

Leave it up to the judges, I'm undercover

Don't touch me, my hair's included

Need a pair of hooters to suit me

I keep the two-liter fix it

Gettin' lifted with Victor so you can miss me with midgets

I'm flexed out on you niggas

Golden spoons, give me something to scribble

Shoutout to killer business deals in Ohio

Now getting tired of bias

Gettin' flyer than the way that you style

They undertie me

I'm crying behind the laughter on my 48th draft

— Man, I hate rap —

It's low letters on my Bape jacket

Stay taxing bitch, I live in the base cap

[Verse 2: Vic Spencer]

They say I'm the best rapper

And I could be

I'm actually what it sound like when the hood speak

You could reach, but collapse at the end

Man, I'm not tryna spend no fuckin' racks on a Benz

Just to get a reaction from friends

That shit is the stupidest

They used to say I rhymed like Busta Rhymes mixed with Ludacris

I sound like nobody else, my property belt

Zap niggas' faces with braces

I'm in the group home placement with sneakers stacked to the ceiling

Relaxing and chillin'

Maximizing the feeling of healing wounds

I kill a tune

Somebody don't know what they like

They just like what you like (right)

I push 'em off a fucking cliff on a bike

If we hold onto whats leaving, we won't see what's coming

I believe in dungeons

Lookin' at the bunions like eww

Still here, still breathing, still strong

What niggas on?

You ain't know shit

Speeding the chrome whip (skrt)

Break free from people that dilute your spirit

I premiered chicks without a career hit

Those who wish to write always tryna verse

You lie in the church, die in the hurst

You ride and slurp

You the king of cock buffing the scene

'Til it bling like the windows

Twenty-four on pentos

Get sent home (skrt)

[Outro]