Lyrics

[Intro] Vic Spencer Awww yeah Round of applause [Verse] Uh I'm laughing at my own attributes You gotta be doing something if they wanna blast at you For the grace of God niggas have you trapped in a suit Joel Osteen with his hand out asking for the loot I love to hoop but shit ain't my first love Watermelon and chicken wings the name of my club Get it busting homie This one chick that was fucking [?] Took us to a niggas house we took all of his belongings The only thing left was the refrigerator I sent some haters to love somebody but their ass got killed Swear to the most high you don't know how this feel It feels like I can rap about as long as a field I feel like I can wear three pairs of sneakers at one time Drop kick a rapper putting guns in their rhymes Knowing they never use them Spit shit that you pursuing When you doing good they'll invite themselves to your movement Losing all of the sight I know what's right and what's left What's wrong with that, that's like hopping on songs with cats that never did dog shit but crawled up a tree Spark up a leaf, no Shawn Skemps when I'm balling with tree Vic Spencer gonna hold shit down better believe it Being better than me, nigga you can never achieve it I mean shit when I say it When niggas talking to me they can see I ain't playing Leave that to the kids, fuck with me I'm cracking a wig Mind your business, background packing my cigs Open up a can of whoop ass for all you pussy boys Fuck up out my face little nigga before I cook your toys I'm always stating the facts You ain't got shit to say when them lasers attached We at war my nigga, no paintball I'm glad that I ain't y'all A whole bunch of tall ass niggas on your team but you can't ball [Outro] What the fuck are you talking to me at all for