Questioning Your Theory

Ass in the front, ho in the back
My shit so good they’ll probably tell me that I made a stack
Toppin' bricks on top of bricks
Layin' sticks I’m off this shit, bitch
You don’t even know my name you claim to know the game
Bitch, I slaughter
Gotchyo' daughter
Step the fuck back, I know you want her now I got her
I’m on some childish shit
You niggas think I’m really playin'
I roll up to the function mad as fuck, I’m super-saiyan
Man, you know damn well I pay straight with the commas
I wanna eat good
Nigga catch me at yo' mommas
Weird as fuck, you catch me in Dubai on a fuckin' llama
Hot as fuck, you find me posted in a motherfuckin' sauna
Never see me in yo' city, man
I straight hop over borders
Gun sacks in my closet, man
I straight link with the hoarders
No quarters
I’m always gettin' paid, nigga
Don’t tell me that you never gettin' played, nigga
Nigga, nigga
Know 'bout me, know 'bout me, niggas, know 'bout me
Know 'bout me, know 'bout me, niggas, know 'bout me, yeah
Fake bitches say they really know 'bout me
Forget a fucking lyric, man
That’s all I gotta see
Get your motherfuckin' hands off me
Try to prove me wrong, I say you gotta fuckin' leave
Never see
I was born and raised in a damn igloo
Dumb bitches really think that’s a damn issue
Night rode up, blacked out, like a shadow in the night
Sayin' that I’m always right
Know 'bout me, know 'bout me, niggas, know 'bout me
Know 'bout me, know 'bout me, niggas, know 'bout me, yeah