Chorus ($ir Jermias) Getting blazed, everyday $ipping Ace with the $pades That is how I celebrate, you can blame it on my race Fucking yea, Imma bathe with my golden fucking rings Goddamn right, I was raised to be mothafuckin' king Verse ($ir Jermias) $o tell me why the hell you wouldn’t let me in (Now Hol' Up) I give a fuck about your reckoning I turned my record in (You threw my record out) I turned it back again and now you holding out (Now I don’t wanna hear it) Let the fans talk (Let the beat bang) Let me hold it down You told me go north, fuck it I’m going south You talk that shit again, I’ll slap in out yo mouth For fuck sake, the fucks I give just don’t exist The up$ide is, I don’t even bone these chicks My chick is a goddess, the king is a god And the game I got it on lock I don’t pay no mind, my wallet is mindless Fuck you and thank you for your kindness See you on the flipside you flipsiders You bitch you, we drink gin straight, you $ip ciders We $moke indoor, you smoke outdoor You outsiders! Chorus Outro ($ir Jeremias) You're fucking idiots This for all muhfuckas doubtin' the kid tho You're fucking idiots Call me $ir Jeremias You're fucking idiots... Skit (Door knock) Mr.Record Label: - Come in you tool Doorman: - Mr.Record Label your next appointment is here Mr.Record Label: Let him in…Sit down son sit down…All right, let's cut to the chase… So hat should I call you? $ir Jeremia$: (Hmmm my name is Edson sir, but you can call me...) Mr.Record Label: Ok, all right.. show me what you got, then