I’m beating up the muthafuckin block, no knock, sippin wok
check your muthafuckin clock - goes ticky ticky tock
hoes all up on my jock, want my style? you can’t cop
feelin like I’m 1999 slipknot
always in my face with some bullshit
bitch I’m irritated if you really didn’t notice
I’mma lil devil, watch me summon all the locusts
evil intentions now watch me make a magnum opus
nose fulla bump, got a body in the trunk
I’m the king of the phonk and I won’t give it up
smokin on the marijuana, puffin on the skunk
fuckin witcha boy, pull the strap and dump dump
666, put you on a crucifix
imma do it like that - imma do it like this
tommy steady pack a tone, if it’s violence I condone
put you in fuckin grave and then I’m pissin on your stone, bitch
Verse II: Tommy Wit Da Tone
pistol packin with some anna put it in your face
back on the track, make you with vanish with no case
tommy wit da tone is such a fuckin disgrace
I took the rap game and I put it in its place
balaclava with the pump, I’m creeping out the fuckin cut
mask up on my fuckin face so you know that I’m gettin buck
bitch you got me fucked up but I ain’t gon trip
talkin all that shit like you ain’t smokin mids
all over the map, always steady pack a gat
with the red dot or the beam on the muthafuckin strap
I don’t make rap, muthafucka get that
I ain’t stackin paper, bitch I’m stackin bottlecaps
feel like I’m Ray Liotta but don’t call me a Goodfella
more like Tommy Vercetti you muthafuckas know better
still ain’t at my peak, locked my qualities in a celler
release them all, I watch you fall, degraded to a bunch of beggars