Pop a Moddy in the morning, make my head right.
Open up my drawer, and then I head right
to my bottle of Addies, gotta get ahead, right?
Caffeine or cocaína, man I mean, I said, "right?"
Drugs in my right hand right to my head. Shit, I'm dead right.
Left head sped up to get the right side of head right.
And then I might just spray a ray out of my head, writing
the melodies of frequencies resonate with red light.

In spite of the night, media's might of shadow cast o'er a calm sunlight
showing me this anxiety,
they expect me to not get my nerves lit as high as the sky
could be the limit?
Shit, I ain't with it.
Committed to my hustle since I ended inner feuds.
That was when my ego submitted and god and I interfused.
I mean to choose the alternative would be suicide
and when you got options like this, bitch, you know I reside.

In my head...

Who dat they be talking bout?
Kaylan, no gameboy ballin out.
My pockets loud, my eyes low.
I've married Jane, so I'm living proud.
My shows to come to be dumb, dog.
Yo barbie throating dick, balls, and all.
I'm tatted, fit snapback straight matching,
Polo drawers nasty in Levi's, thrashing.
No flaws at all, boy dreaded up,
Sipping a cup, getting my dick sucked.
Like: "Bitch, you know me:"
My crew, we roll deep.
My hoes, they love me.
I love my hoes, it's lovely.
My pockets keep stacking.
Snapback, straight tatted"
Listen.

Mary Jane, two swishers,
a couple bitches twisting with my niggas,
just chilling with no vision, no obligation,
just interest in making money in the cut, steady flipping it,
know them niggas on the block steady getting it.
Skateboard in hand, still bustin that 357,
living in heaven, blowing
hella blunts to my hair fucked up,
rich woman, I pussy eat. Price the lunch.
My baby mama that hood cunt.
Daddy black, don't give a fuck, no.
Don't miss the father, my mistress following.
Sipping a bottle, humping a model.
My eyes lowered, my hoes swallow.
I'm a product of my father.
A life of pimping and moving product.
Only kiss her feeling is sour.
My young niggas, yeah they 'bout it.
Plus, you know I hold a chopper.
And if a pussy got a problem,
reunite her with grandmama,
take his ashes, fertilize the marijuana.
Fuck yo problem!
Bad bitch booty collosal,
Boy I'm out ch'ere causing havoc:
Too Chaotic.