A-na-na, a-na-na, well, I'm an alley cat Some say a dirty rat on my side is my gap But I'm lyin' bout that, still bumpin' buckshot Trench coat, all in matte, black hat With the curls bangin' right off the bat Backside divin', open eyelids, *** a silence Big Pharma rest in piss and get the Heisman Look at my iris, see the trips where I been Anti-pill bottle, pro psilocybin Still buyin' bootleg Gucci from China Donate most, but still throw it on consignment Red carpet, Jeff Goldblum's behind us And they ain't got a clue that these ain't real diamonds Don't turn me back to the old me Backpack rappin' and paddlin' back in Oli I was studyin' the Carter I right after 03 Marinara brick oven on the terrace with the goat cheese You flatbread from Panera, don't approach me Coasting, David Blaine on that beat, floating OGs, don't make a mother***er OD That outfit, that's a no from me If you gonna do drugs, I can suggest some But I wouldn't spend that much of your money on codeine I ain't judgin', enjoy your life But that *** is killin' people and it's overpriced Hit the club, get the bag, man, I know that's right But let me teach your young bloods how to hold the mic I'm older, right? Never had a poltergeist And still slap a rapper like a white dolomite I'm Blackout, stage dive right into the crowd and never tap out And I ain't workin' for a ***in' suit so don't ask now That's why I always speak my mind and never back down Since Pog was behind shock off in the background Watched the cops started to rap because I cannot pop and lock Went from sellin' nicks and a knot in my sock To sellin' out arenas where the Knicks throw up shots Goddamn, that's a hell of a come up European festival money, that's a hell of a summer I remember they were sayin' I'd be a one-hit wonder Forty platinum later, boy, they were wrong about the number Now I'm so focused, the pen is so potent The beachfront look like I own the whole ocean Pull up in that skirt, skirt, the door opens The mint coat draggin' on the floor, I ain't even notice These rappers so emotive, groamin' emoji Face cryin' all on their socials And I ain't hatin', I guess I'm just old school We suppress feelings and scrap to right after homeroom Old gold OJ is a cold trunk Twenty ounce of Faygo to go with this old mood Look what I made off of Pro Tools, still remind pops So maybe I told you So maybe I told you