I'm known [bad word] my mouth
I will not be accountable for [bad word] out, uh
I dunno, I might have said it
I was kinda gone and light-head
And my jacket kinda fresh, bright red
And as usual, my pants tight-threaded
It seem like everybody dress tight now
And I just want my credit
Don't get it, twist it, or dread it
I am the king and will not be headed
To the morgue no time soon, brethren
Being broke made my head hurt
So I need the bread or an Excedrin
That'll only get my engine revving
While y'all on 10, I'm on 11
I'ma make the news be on at 7
Matter fact, I'm on this very second
I'm in first and y'all in second
And this verse only add to the freshness
Call to the club, tell them add to the guest list
What you think? Way more [bad word] 
I can never be too big for my britches
Y'all [bad word] know who this is
I'm gifted