Lyrics:
They say the average Joe shouldn’t chase the cheese,
But what’s cheese without butter when you’re churnin the beat?
Bitch you learn from my meat, on this mic I will speak,
Truth be told that your momma wouldn’t wanna hear me,
Like I’m tryna be Juwanna man, give me a break,
Steppin into foreign waters like I’m swimming with snakes,
But my time is now sucka let me sing for the cake,
Like it’s my birthday except my wishes come true,
Man your wishes only wishes till you makin the move,
And these Nikes on my Feet will break you dude,
So step out of my way, my cleats are breakin through,
On this muddy ass turf, man I’m slippin and slidin,
Had this cuddy ass girl I was winin and dinin,
And she finer than the finest like that Napa wine &,
Shinin on em brings a twinkle in my eyelid when I’m eyein your eyelids,
The thing that’s finer is this music that I’m in,
She won’t ever cheat, I just kill it, you feel it,
Then I’m on to another beat, my brothers feet are sore from walkin on meech,
But we walkin up the stairway to chuckin the cheaps,
Disciplin em and keep you in check like y’all are my children,
Other rappers only dapper cause they sippin that syrup,
I ain’t into that shit, I just do it so perfect,
Swervin on em even though the homie drive a Suburban,
And that’s chevy keep it heavy when I rip on these verses,
It’s all I know lil hoe, there ain’t no other way,
It’d be cool if I could slide into the industry like I’m tryna get paid,
And we leavin paper trails as we makin our way,
Whaddup Joey B? Hope you makin your way,
Cause you do it for da Yout and not for da cake,
And you bringin the real out of these bitches that’s fake,
So for heaven’s sakes could a brother come hop on a train?
Get me in a booth, hit one or two, and then press play,
This that Rocky Mountain Sound comin live from the Bay,
Bringin the two coasts together and meet right in the middle,
That’s that perfect harmony man like my name’s in the riddle,
Make you pucker with it in like you tastin a skittle,
I’m sweet on this rhythm dunkin fries in the sauce,
Slam dunkin on you bitches like my name was Hot Sauce,
And that’s And 1, hut one two three four,
Your bitch was eyein for a minute as I walked through the door,
And now I’m in the kitchen, cookin something, itchin,
To get into the hoop shootin prescription like my name was Chef Curry,
Want you to listen to my music so you less worried,
She said she wants to melt in my mouth like a Mcflurry,
But I ain’t no Eminem, I’m oreo style,
A white boy who sounds black, what you gonna do now?
Better listen up homie, cause he’s breakin the style,
Startin the trend, beat you at rappin again and again,
And he’ll do it beginning to end, until the message is sent,
Lil homie heaven is within,
And before you begin to speak to me about whippin a Benz,
Just remember where you came from, and stick to your kin,
Don’t matter what you doin just keep making that paper,
And we can all phase out to a time that is greater,
Haters wanna win, I’m go be like alright let em,
But just get me on a mic and I will sever they heads in,
Like a chopper lead bullets out my mouth when I’m spittin these threads,
This for all the kids who say hip hop is dead, just wait for the resurrection,
Bring you together like my flow is hella Con-gru-ent, yo
