and we still bumpin' that trunk
i'll take your piss in that bottle
throw that bitch at your papa
smoke flyin' off the chopper and it's chokin' your mama
she can't breathe with this funk
what i conceive in the trunk
they disbelieve in the son
i got that bump in the back with the box of bodies
creek water 'til i'm walkin' wobbly
i don't keep it political
fuck the world and i'm not sorry
the priest was thinkin' i'm illuminati
'cause eminem is a close kin
he might as well be 'cause i give him hell
but i snap like a crispy cracker
when i peel the pages out the book and hook it
pull up on 'em in the '59
shinin' like a trailer park king
let the boots take a walk
how i lift the pile of what i made into the faders
choppin' like me should've been a log
we hit the bar and settled up a twenty dollar tab
i left her bein' drunk and walkin' out the back without a ride
or even bein' smart enough to get an uber
and paddle my way over to the studio
i'm at church with a newer god
quarterback of anything slum and i'm throwin' bullets
then take a violent bullet
walk a country mile and take a ride in my 'cuda
for the 808s up under the bench of the chevy
for the bettys gettin' ready
catfish deep gettin' heady
and it's a walk in the park
when i'm talkin' the talk
be alert if the dog starts barkin' at y'all
'cause i'm a marvelous shit starter
causin' the market to flip harder
but fuck it if i can roll
these suckers just pickpocket
the creative profit and go remake it to make a dollar