Questioning Your Theory

Ass in the front, ho in the back My shit so good they'll probably tell me that I made a stack Toppin' bricks on top of bricks Layin' sticks I'm off this shit, bitch You don't even know my name you claim to know the game Bitch, I slaughter Gotchyo' daughter Step the fuck back, I know you want her now I got her I'm on some childish shit You niggas think I'm really playin' I roll up to the function mad as fuck, I'm super-saiyan Man, you know damn well I pay straight with the commas I wanna eat good Nigga catch me at yo' mommas Weird as fuck, you catch me in Dubai on a fuckin' llama Hot as fuck, you find me posted in a mother fuckin' sauna Never see me in yo' city, man I straight hop over borders Gun sacks in my closet, man I straight link with the hoarders No quarters I'm always gettin' paid, nigga Don't tell me that you never gettin' played, nigga Nigga, nigga Know 'bout me, know 'bout me, niggas, know 'bout me Yeah Fake bitches say they really know 'bout me Forget a fucking lyric, man That's all I gotta see Get your mother fuckin' hands off me Try to prove me wrong, I say you gotta fuckin' leave Never see I was born and raised in a damn igloo Dumb bitches really think that's a damn issue Night rode up, blacked out, like a shadow in the night Sayin' that I'm always right Know 'bout me, know 'bout me, niggas, know 'bout me Yeah