Jay-Z, he ain’t got nothing on me,
Cause Beyonce don’t sing the chorus for me,
Don’t need to plug myself on daytime TV,
Don’t need to sell myself on Regis and Kelly

Look at that chick sitting in the crowd,
Her hairs all done, now ain’t she proud?
If you’re not gonna listen, then I’m gonna get loud.
Wear my shroud,
Grab some kronik, get fucking plowed,
But that kinda shit, it ain’t allowed.

Don’t need to sell myself to society,
Driven by money, and little girlies,
Don’t wana sell my songs to little teenies,
As a matter of fact, if you’re under twenty,
Turn off your radio, then your TV.

Suck my dick,
Take a lick,
Spit on it,
And make it real slick.
But make it quick,
Cause I gota take a shit,
This song’s over…
Time to quit.