I'm sportin' a buzz cut, cuttin' the buns up
I'm not with the done fun stuff
With you and your rum rush, tug fucks
Tough luck, my friend, but today's not the end
I'll be livin' another day, seein' another face
And I'm a super baller with the nuts and the balls
And what I got in my folder
Files of styles from when I'm older
Futuristic, egotistic, singin' of whiskey
Fillin' a choir with my two timin' and rhyme scheme
Simon says to me, just please, stay trackin' on
Go hard, but not on the court, sack home alone
On a Saturday night, gettin' fucked up, send an invite to all
Tyrant, but be smooth 'til you get that call
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