First Person Shooter (Feat. J. Cole)

(Pew pew pew) First person shooter mode We turnin' your song to a funeral To them niggas that say they want offices You better be talkin' my work in cubicles Yeah them boys had it locked But I knew the code Lot of niggas debatin' my numeral not the three Not the two I'm the U N O Yeah Numero U N O Me and Drizzy this shit like the Super Bowl Man this shit damn near big as the Big as the what? Big as the what? Big as the what? Big as the Super Bowl But the difference is it's just two guys playin' shit That they did in the studio Niggas usually send they verses back to me And they be terrible just like a two year old I love a dinner with some fine women When they start debatin' about who the G O A T I'm like Go 'head say it then who the G O A T? 'Who the G O A T? Who the G O A T? Who the G O A T?' Who you bitches really rootin' for? Like a kid from January then November nigga It's just you and Cole Big as the what? Big as the what? Big as the what? Big as the Super Bowl Niggas so thirsty to put me in beef Dissectin' my words and start lookin' too deep I look at the tweets and start suckin' my teeth I'm lettin' it rock 'cause I love the mystique I still wanna get me a song with YB Can't trust everything that you saw on IG Just know if I diss you I made sure you know That I hit you like I'm on your caller ID I'm namin' the album The Fall Off it's pretty ironic 'Cause it ain't no fall off for me Still in this bitch gettin' bigger They waitin' on the kid to come jot Like a father to be Love when they argue the hardest MC Is it K Dot is it Aubrey or me? We the big three like we started a league But right now I feel like Muhammed Ali Huh yeah yeah huh huh yeah Muhammed Ali Yeah the one that they call When they shit ain't connectin' no more Feel like I got a job in IT Rhymin' with me is the biggest mistake The Spider Man meme is me lookin' at Drake It's like we recruited your homies to beat Demon deacons we got 'em a ten in the weight Hate how the gang gotta wait for the bars man This shit like a prison escape Everybody steppers well fuck it Then everybody breakfast And I'm 'bout to clear up my plate (Huh huh huh) When I show up it's motion picture blockbuster The G O A T with the golden pin the top toucher The spot rusher sprayed his whole shit up The crop duster Not Russia but apply pressure To your cranium Cole's automatic when aimin' em With The Boy in the status a stadium Nigga Ayy I'm 'bout to I'm bout to I'm 'bout to yeah Yeah I'm 'bout to click out on this shit I'm 'bout to click woah I'm 'bout to click out on this shit I'm 'bout to click woah I'm down to click down you hoes And make a crime scene I click the trigger on the stick like a high beam Man I was Bentley wheel whippin' When I was nineteen She call my number leave her hangin' She got dry cleaned She got an Android her messages is lime green I search one name And end up seein' twenty tings Nadine Christine Justine Kathleen Charlene Pauline Claudine Man I pack 'em in this phone like some sardines And they send me naked pictures It's just small things You niggas is still takin' pictures on a dog stream My youngers richer than you rappers And they all stream I really hate that you been sellin' them Some false dreams Man if your pub was up for sale I buy the whole thing Will they ever give me flowers? Well of course not They don't wanna have that talk 'Cause it's a sore spot They know The Boy the one that got a boycott I told Jim and Jammer I use a GRAMMY as a door stop Girl gave me some head because I need it And if I fuck with you then after I might eat it wait Niggas talkin' 'bout when this gon' be repeated What the fuck bro? I'm one away from Michael Nigga beat it nigga beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Beat it what? Don't even pay me back on no favors I don't need it