Malkovich, I'm bout this shit
out to get them won't fit in your motherfucking trouser chips
throw my mixtape in your whip and blow your speakers just to see how loud it get
you talking turn it down, a bit stop talking like a bitch ten buck, buy my shit, gimme cash, gimme credit card
fuck it, wire it, fuck the environment
you talking bout trees, I'm talking bout me
so kick a panda in the knee and buy my fucking CD.

I get boisterous off poisonous beverages, ah yes
I’m banging the Pointer Sisters, I ain’t talking about their records
your only choice is us, me and my boys are plush
I bring the news like Reuters and my voice is a plus

De Niro in your earhole 'cause the world needs a hero
I’m virile, better she share a ten than deal with them zeroes
you make music for Euros, music for eight-year-olds
fucking with the bureau, they gon put you on a mural
west coast, west los, put this in your next post
internet rap mufukas is in their death throes
my tactic, flood the market with gutter hard shit
cold as the Arctic, long as my fucking heart tick.