[Verse 1 Jon Bowser] I heard he spit crack now You heard wrong, I been whippin for a minute Where you think the heat comes from My noodles in the kitchen Do I even have to mention, I get it in To get a benz, to bend out Pro tools turn Mac Books to a Traphouse Fiends want in, What you know about? Goin to sleep raw, waking up dope My schedules filled with gettin to the notes Out of town, weeks...and weekends Yeah she chose, but I aint keepin Lets be friends, naw We aint speaking Why not? Do you really need a reason Eating good, living better Ex chicks trip, guess Tyrone Got his ish together Yes, yes, they trip when I fall through Clockin paper the digits should alarm you Custom cars, that aint rented Suicide doors give them haters mean spirit No recess, miss me Im on a mission Want that butter and Im bread bred to get it Hook Jon Bowser Outro Whats up knew Id hit a mill since a young buck
bowser, jon, traphouse, tyrone, trip