[Intro]
Don't read the lyrics until I write it
This is amazing... okay
This is Que and Chris Carson
[Verse 1]
Fucking appetite success is my front of influence
One hundred thousand in cash and not a penny of shame
It wasn't easy to figure out what's wrong, it's not me
If you're an astronaut , greet our ego there, ego there
No pressure, no wounds
Indestructible, as if I had stolen prescriptions for Ketonal
What can tame me, be careful, nothing
The tax office is behind my back she calls me Nu, pagadi
The scene is fresh, I am dying of hunger
I don't even want to open the quotation marks
I don't even want to open the quotation marks quotation marks
Because I eat them like, yyy, is there an option for delivery?
This is our time like Smagalaz
Even Jabba the Hutt is shaking his neck while doing this
I'm so hyped that I could have done it a second time
Sharp entry, red alert, a foul should have been called
I played dirty, but I'm still having fun
It's a piece for a coffee like in Pizza Hut
The payroll is growing, more and faster
The city is small, but with great ambitions
[Chorus]
What is it like? That I make money and have respect on stage
What's it like? You don't think it's still underground
What's it like? Full faces and full pockets
That's how it is! We're clinking glasses with my hypeman
Hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype
Hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype, hype
[Verse 2 ]
They can't accuse me of anything, too real, honest
They're fucking with the nickname, pseudo-rappers
Thomas Aquinas would probably believe in this punchline too
The unchecked prime minister , tomorrow for golf with the president
Why so much Bragg, too much water
Simple answers, a problem with reconstructing experiences
You want to warn me, warn me, let's check each other
You record it for yourself, half the trouble; Harvey Dent
Fucking appetite for success, check your potential
The whole rap game will soon make a colon and v, blow
I don't know if you can digest it easily
Now I'm playa like David PodsiadÅo
I create life the way I want, these are my sims sims
Getting out of the trap is the goal, your clinches clinches
I have to run for what I want, we do good sprints
Ten years ago they wouldn't have made this mistake; Vintage
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Let's move the stage, 'cause it's free jokes in slow-mo
I'm five sevens in my date of birth; hot spot
My plan doesn't fit in my head, call me John Doe
Your rap from seven pains, John Doe again
Such lines, it doesn't bother you, and you're already humming it
I was a dick, start this Rap Genius, it will start
My enthusiasm is Eyjafjallajökull, it's barely cooled down
Even vampires cast doubts on you
br/>No fucking deals, no fucking debts
We are following the path of possession, I guess there are no other paths for us; Voodoo
The eighth miracle is coming, it's Que and Chris Carson
The difference is that I'm standing on the precipice
They can't pigeonhole me, I can lock anything
Eclectic, my style is like O.J Simpson
I clean like Splinter Cell, the stage is eaten
Milord, where's the cylinder for my shotgun?
[Chorus]

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